don’t call me pretty
don’t call me sweet
i won’t be flattered –
it’s not what i need;
don’t call me beautiful
don’t call me hot
i won’t be flattered –
i know i’m not;
but then so what
it isn’t like I give a
****.
beautiful won’t draw the stars
upon the night sky,
pretty won’t write you a poem
twenty lines long,
slam and bitter-sweet,
beautiful won’t inspire
another soul to love me,
pretty won’t immortalise
my swift and shining mind,
beautiful won’t taste like
coffee and cigarettes
when i kiss you on the
mouth,
pretty won’t make you
laugh with a coarse voice
at 3 a.m.
under the stars,
beautiful won’t make you
stay awake till dawn
reciting frost, then plath
and then bukowski,
pretty won’t make you
crave for my
mysteriously gentle touch,
beautiful won’t make
my absence sting and
leave a burning scar,
pretty won’t feed you
with homemade crusty
cake glazed with chocolate
and raspberries,
beautiful won’t make your
body ache when you
wake up and don’t find me
in bed,
pretty won’t make your
head hurt with all the
existential questions
i ask before i’ve even started
to drink,
beautiful won’t cuddle you
under the sound of
heavy metal screams,
pretty won’t soothe you
when you need to cry,
beautiful won’t dance with you
with no music,
pretty won’t hold your hand
like i will though it’s
december and i have no
mittens,
beautiful won’t win
wars for you,
pretty won’t stay up all
night long to marathon
lord of the rings with you
and then maybe star wars
and then read some marvel,
and then make up
asoiaf theories,
beautiful will steal a glance,
but I will steal your mind.
hot might earn you a body,
with other words
you will enter my heart.
pretty might be enough
for a one-night stand,
but i can make you
be hopelessly,
tiredly,
desperately
in love.

pretty* is what he told you
that is, until he seen her.
pretty is what your friends called you
until you realized,
you were meant to talk to the moon,
kiss the skies,
bring down the stars,
and walk on water,
and not to be *pretty

i have never been kissed
but my friend told me about hers
she's grounded
because he left a hickey
and i don't even know his name but i know what he tastes like
because she's just so **** happy that she's finally had her first kiss
and another friend was talking about kissing her other friend
she's my friend too, i guess
but they're girls, and i have no problem with that
honestly
but they're not even gay
and they're kissing just for fun
on a dare
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i know what i am
and that is not romantic
i know that i am  a monster with a crooked back
and a sad smile
who laughs like a kraken at terrible jokes
and rude towards people
and tries to fit in just a little bit more
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i don't even know the first thing about it
and i don't even know what's happening around me
but i only care about a kiss
and that's really not the best thing for the world
but to me it matters
is it supposed to matter so much?