Happy Endings

A loop in my brain
plays chic flicks
and tricks a dizzy heart
which blushes and flushes
down every last ounce of dignity
and dreams along the way
and I cook up the same dishes
and mistakes as my mother
and I swirl in mango juices
waiting to go home held in
bruised hands and I keep batting
chihuaha eyes following them
and I do not fail to tail
this circle to its head and wonder
if there’s too much salt
or too little and I calculate
if the time difference
is just right to ask if I am pretty
because I think I am pretty
ugly compliments rear their heads
and why my curls could not be enough
and why my skin is not to be loved
is a point I could not reach
the depths of your eyes
that never looked at me
(no, not really)
and why do I obsess
in this cesspool of failures
in which I succeeded and
why do Asian women still
knock my lungs out of me
and why do lovers loom at doorsteps
but loving never deserts me
I guess these are the scars
I carry in my palms
I carry these scars home with me
I look for a line of a fairytale tailing me
but no happy endings haunt me.

Artist: 408, digital painting, 1500x1000pxOC by u/intq49

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