pretty bones
pretty bones  fiction stories
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lovequal
lovequal it’s a comfortable silence
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
the effect of toxic beauty standards

pretty bones

guess you gotta believe in me

our eyes almost touching, my hand smooths down her bare skin. felt underneath her snake skin, raw and stripped. her face was soft. skin weak, tight and pulling back against her bones.

pale and light as air, sunken cheeks almost hollow.

empty but petite and pretty - demure.

rib cage bundled with pretty flowers, tangled around her bones. scissors in her hand, urging to cut their heads off. glitter sprinkled at the arch of her cheekbones.

noticeably poking out of her skin like rounded arrows. I trace my finger along it, feeling her pretty bones.

like a feather, I glide the tip of my finger curving up and down her bones, trying not to tear her skin.

"why do you do this to yourself?" I whisper to her.

deprived of love and self satisfaction. black cat like eyes, wide and fragile.

a galaxy in silent frustration for acceptance, full of glistening stars gazing at me as I analyse her bone structure.

her eyes, open for internal destruction from anyone who ate the bad weeds looking for an outlet, someone they can blame.

did they really have to let it out on you, pretty girl?

"so I can be attractive like the other girls. I need to do this. it's not bad, trust me" she quietly replies.

oh but pretty girl, you're hurting yourself

fluffy bleached white hair, wisping around her face. she looks ethereal. beautiful, yet painful to look at. inured and vulnerable to receiving destruction, only to remain stoic and modest.

her mono-lid becomes heavy over her eyes as she takes in the expression on my face. "you don't like it." she states looking down. like a flower, drooping slightly.

tilting its head a bit over the vase.

fragile little flower.

decaying slowly, trying to brighten its colours without water. the buttery petals drying and pulling back. darkening by manipulation.

her flower bud does not belong to her anymore, it's not attached anymore. ripped and now she doesn't want to grow her petals anymore. they said being a flower was bad, we like weeds now.

weeds are disposable and aren't so loud with colour. they still need controlling though.

we like heavy pretty bones.

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