there is a book within my heart
of poems you've never seen
poems you've never read
poems you'll never read.
and from deep within my heart
with my pen of black ink
i hope that you might read them
and say that you still love me.


― i'm afraid not everything i write is pretty

I heard it all before
I'm just not pretty enough
I'm cute but just not that pretty
I look too young

I don't wear enough make up and I don't dress grown enough
I'm not assertive and I don't demand attention
No one will ever notice me

I don't go out enough and I don't party as much as other girls
So what exactly does that mean?
Does that mean a boy can't like a girl like me?
I want to be pretty
I want to feel loved
But sometimes I just feel not good enough...

I was busy at work,
scrubbing the lipstick stains from china coffee mugs,
TLC replying in my head,
when I heard a man clear his throat.
His overly exposed eyes did not scare me,
nor did his wide but bruised hands.
What scared me was one,
simple
sentence.
"excuse me miss, I just wanted to say you look beautiful today"
"thank you"
I should've been more polite,
and I do apologize for that,
but I am not beautiful.

found: parts of you that are unpretty.
broken ***** fingernails.
sticky substance, underside of wrist.
something broken, something blue.
found: god, in pieces.
trembling for the sweetness of it all.
trembling for herself.

found: your saviour, all black and blue.
all dust and wind.
all “everything i’ve ever dreamed of.”
material of matinees.

found: you, you, you.
your entirety, your serious.
something bitter and beautiful.
something like you.