when i was younger,
my mother called me "grace".
she called me grace,
because that was exactly the thing that i lacked.
thinking about it now,
it occurs to me..
that that is a very sad thing:
to be named after something you lack.
if someone wanted to call me
a name
based on something
i can't do,
or don't have,
or am not,
maybe they would call me..
clear. for i am never quite clear on what i want.
maybe they would call me..
pure. for i have sinned a thousand times.
maybe they would call me..
shame. for i have no shame about the life i have chosen.
maybe they would call me..
beautiful. for many things about me are not quite beautiful.
maybe they would call me..
honesty. for i'm supremely good at spouting lies.
maybe they would call me..
found. for i have never, ever, been so lost.

Everyone is a joke
Says the clown

Her mother has lung cancer
Crack a joke
He's crying because I bullied him
Crack a joke
He killed himself a week later
Crack a joke

Hysteria
Loud blowhard laughter
Bulging blood-shot tear-filled eyes
Butterflies eating your intestines-

Serious nothing.
Everyone's always your plaything
You say it's because you're Albanian.
Male.
Because you just-dont-care.
Because we're all stupid.
Hypersensitive.
That's a cop out-

I think,
You're just a clown.