Of all the things I’ve ever heard
(a song sung sweetly by a bird,
the hollow rumbling of a drum,
the trembling strings of every strum)

there’s nothing
like the way you sing
when you think
no one’s listening

dissect me into pieces
mathematical
manic
make me
make sense
solve the pieces
like a puzzle
break me
then make me
intact
but I'm not built
of numbers and facts
when you filed my edges
you created gaps

She wishes for different colored eyes,
"Blue's just overrated"
She wishes for thinner thighs,
Her legs leave her aggravated,

"My stomach is so gigantic"
She says while halfway frowning,
"My ****'s just too titanic"
In low self esteem she's drowning,

Compliments a'plenty,
I try to prove her wrong,
I love her more than any-
thing, that's why I wrote this song,

I say you're beautiful,
Everyday I make sure to,
But your mirror and your mind,
They're playing tricks on you,

You're so **** perfect,
Yet you live life without
Thinking you're worth it,
I admit, it freaks me out

When your insecurities,
Keep bad thoughts afloat,
But the cure to me,
Might be in this song I wrote

I say it's gonna be okay,
Everyday I make sure to,
But your mirror and your mind
Are playing tricks on you.

You are Dark, my Dove and sweet.
Like Eve, you tempt me, and I eat.
Oh! Dark Deliciousness!
Oh! Bittersweet!
Your taste- like heaven!

but I shouldn't cry out
here in Seven-Eleven

words are the stones you used
to shut the water out;
dammed
and silent until broken,
like the promises lost in a whisper
and misconstrued by hopeful
ears.

where are you taking me?
I can’t travel far without my oxygen mask
and my flask of dreams, filled
to the brim
with something sour
which smells shockingly similar to
lies.

always a different color than you
think. Red:
sweet and lonely,
can be everyone’s lover.
but when it comes to
parenting, no one knows ****.
I don’t blame you.
I have too many fingers for that,
too many fingers to count the names
you’ve called me
but just enough to count the ones that have
stung.

final offer:
going once. I’m not up for twice.
the world has secrets you wouldn’t
understand, but at least
you can close your eyes,
count to ten,
and disappear.
Some of us have the luxury of death,
while others have the burden of
living.

blonde-hair'd beauty of
the Midwest, i love you.