i say all the right things
always thinking ahead
never fully present, just
hoping you won't recognize the mask
hoping you'll fall in love with
silly old me
i wear my skinny jeans as a mask,
ironically to conceal the fact
that i'm both skinny and pale
i drone on about helping people,
when all i really wanna do
is help myself
only i can't
does that make me a bad person?
mostly, i'm pale because i live
in a pitch black cave, forever
haunted by bullies and ancient wounds
it's the wounds that get you early,
that are the hardest to heal
still,
i sometimes venture out of the cave
recklessly careful,
tequila is my kryptonite
upgrades my powers to carefully reckless
only i'm no superman
i'm the clown that paints his wounds with bright colors
that's a lie
i'm more like cinderella with a beard
always on the clock,
waiting for the glass slipper to crack
my **** is pretty cute though
no kidding
it's out there somewhere
looking for that beautifully complicated wound
hoping,
wondering,
is it compatible with mine?