i don't like myself
the way i look, the way i think
the way i was made,
i don't like it.
i wish i wasn't lazy
so i could make this poem more appealing
i wish i could conjure metaphors
and poetry would come bursting naturally out of me.
i wish i could reach that cupboard
without standing on my toes.
i wish i could be one with my words
and i could write about the way i feel.
i wish i wasn't so dependent
on people's praises
and i wish that statistics wasn't my only form of self-validation.
i'm always waiting for the day
where i'll wake up living the life
i dreamed about last night.
i wish my body was just like theirs
you can say that my body is unique
but i don't care
i don't want unique, i want pretty.
i wish i could pull a poker-face
without being self-conscious of what i look like.
i wish i could walk without
thinking that i was the center of the universe
that all eyes are cameras pointed at me
waiting for me to stumble & fall.
i wish i didn't have to delete
the past attempts of composing this poem again and again.
i wish the voices in my head isn't my lullaby and my alarm clock.
i wish i didn't fear falling down the reject hole
i wish art would radiate outside my skin
i wish i don't beat myself
for every time i restart this poem
and i hope after this last line,
i never have to.

The aloe has flourished in the garden
where mine heart once beat as a white rose.

The freedom of its soft fragrance has been
smothered, petals wilted, roots dead and no longer grows.

The gardener saw it fit to **** the iris and now the poison ivy, like water flows.

He walked the streets a begger
they buried him like a king
he played a six string guitar
he wore no golden ring

She had the voice of angels
survived a valley called death
then fearing no evil
she passed every test

They wrote the songs with sunsets
they walked the line together
they stood in a ring of fire
in love they burned forever

.

I picked up my pen

to create the most beautiful
and alluring love inspired work of art

anyone had ever dreamed of
and like I always do,

I thought of you

and once again remembered  . . .  
it had already been accomplished

I put down my pen