Details

Men will want to drape me on their bed and tell me they’ve never seen eyes so sensual but they don’t know that I cry often to Bob Dylan in my car and that I love dark chocolate because it reminds me of my dad and that I never cut my hair because it makes me feel safe. They don’t know that I collect card decks and matchbooks and have re watched Sex In The City more than five times. They don’t know that there’s days I feel so anxious I can’t move and that vanilla mixed with lingering cigarette smoke is my favorite smell. They don’t know that I eat a lot of meals standing in the kitchen and that I fall asleep often to ocean sounds.

Sometimes I wonder if my intricacies and romanticism is overbearing and too foreign for a man to ever understand. Sometimes I wonder about what happens after the fantasy subsides, and the raw soft side of myself is the only thing visible.