So, you've read my poetry?
You've skimmed the lines and picked out words you think are pretty,
delicate, intelligent, or odd?
You understand me now, I see!
I'm yours to dissect, pick at, ****,
but never keep, of course not that.

Yes you've read my poetry,
but did you know I sometimes cross my l's as t's and often wish
to travel far and far alone.
Alone: myself and only me.
I'd adventure, danger-prone;
You would only slow me down.

So what if sometimes late at night I want to dance on balconies and feel your breath upon my ear?
That really doesn't matter
for I don't need you, and you don't want me,
even though you've read my poetry.

I was gonna give up smoking
when that clock struck midnight.
Rash and unhindered.
But the smoke in my lungs
tastes just the way I remember
you and it echoes the promise
I made a year previously,
when the clock struck midnight
and I vowed to always be by your side.

The problem is that
when I sleep I
lay like you're already
here

If an adjective could describe me
it'd have to be hungry
for obvious reasons
cause I ******* love my food
but for poetic reasons
cause I often elude

I have hungry ears
and a hungry soul
and I'm so **** hungry
you don't even know
but you do
cause you can see it in my eyes
My hunger is that fleck of white,
that element of surprise

I have a hungry mouth
and a hungry mind
and I'm so **** hungry
and I'm so **** blind
cause I want and I need
and I grasp and I touch
I'm hungry for life
and I crave oh so much

Hungry
is my middle name
Hungry
has always been the game
I play
with minds
like meanings of names
dynamic and static

Hungry
Feed me