writings!: sunglasses


shaded. jaded. eighty bucks to be an icon, or maybe a cat. round red ones for that crown-of-thorns look,

aviators because you ache to go high,

pink heart shaped ones if you’re a girl who wants to see the world brighter.

your face is shrinking and your freckles blaze, sweat and tears and plastic won’t stop sliding down your nose and you keep trying to push them up but i guess they’re too big?

lenses are darker than undereye circles.

novelty glasses at the tourist store in florida and everyone’s worried about you, but who can tell when there’s beer bottles around the edges of the lenses, take a picture sister and maybe you’ll try it someday…?

then there’s the classics which never looked good on you, fake ray-ban ovals glinting like hummingbird eggs on the edges but when you push them up hawks dig their talons into their hair and i can see scalp

pink heart shaped ones if you want the world to see you brighter,

they broke last six months ago and won’t stay on straight, but maybe you can glue them back together.

you have another pair but they aren’t the same.

for now, you stick to sunscreen. your eyes burn and peel. your face dresses itself in satin.