scrap #2

i make you nervous cause you cannot see my eyeteeth
something makes me think you'd like to keep them in a box
or strung around your neck
you covet my beauty,
ignore the mess
here's a secret:
it only rots worse when you smother it

i'm such a charming jumble of contradictions
thought you had them all lined up,
thinking two dimensionally
neglecting the rest of the square
turn it over,
colors clash violently
you'll never figure it out

what's worse is when you praise me,
i itch to prove myself unworthy
it's so fucking easy