In your neon green Victoria Secret sweats
And tight-fitted, light-weight hot pink running sneakers
    Hair slicked back in an even ponytail
               With the cigarette carelessly hanging out of your mouth

You look as if the world is a bore to you, and would probably tell me
That my size 7 curves will probably **** me one day
And my response would be that your lifestyle
           Imitating a factory located in Pittsburgh will probably do the same
                                               to us both

But at least my curves have the decency to only cling to me
and not roam about in the air.

My mouse is frozen
But all the gifs are going
A blogger's haiku

I could create art –
In the physical way –
And put lines on paper that take on your form
And decorate it with blood spatter
As I show your eyes drained of life,
That smirk on your face erased,
That haughty aura doused;
Just as I had dreamt it to be

The girls with rusty voices are so poetic
And I am neither a song bird, nor a gutsy girl who just finished her 5th cigarette
I’m a little too nasally and high pitched
For even words to make me beautiful

I don’t know where to write this
So you won’t find it
I just want you to love me
I’m so angry and sad that my tears are violent
And hot
And hurt
And I want to change
And fix me
And be worth loving

But I don’t blame you
I’m not worth loving

I’m shaking
And breathing heavy
Oh my God what’s happening to me?
My lungs feel like they’re being crushed
My heart feels like it’s trying to rip right out of my chest to escape this dungeon that is me

What have I become

I’m harmless
And harmful
And full of rage
And full of love

You don’t understand
You’ll never understand
And I can’t make you
But I sure wish you could

I want to scream
But I lost all sensation in my spur of bewilderment
It got ****** away in a black hole of existentialism the other day
And I just couldn’t bring myself to run after it

So I let the last tear I cried roll down my cheek
Blinked
Sighed
And fell asleep

*goodnight