Who am I more like, my mother or my father?

I have my mother’s face and my father’s humor

But my eyes are my father’s and my hair is my mother’s

Although from a certain angle it seems that I have my mother’s nose

And my father’s teeth

But while my lips curve in my mother’s smile

And my eyes crinkle into my father’s

And though my shyness is my mother’s

And my temper belongs to my father

I sense, through my mother’s worry and my father’s words

That maybe some part of me

Is hiding

With my father’s tenacity and my mother’s silence

Some part

Is hiding

Under my parents’ skins

Paris is always a good idea.

Because even though there is a total of 2.234 million people

And even though I am more of a turtle than my mother

Paris is for lovers

And hopefully I’ll be able to find someone to kiss away my sadness

And whisper away my loneliness

Fight my bad thoughts away

And love my sleepless nights to a lull

Paris is always a good idea.

Because even though I’ve only been kissed a total of 23.6 times

And even though I’ve only ever loved one boy

Paris is for people

And hopefully love is an inherent trait that is possible to find

In the darkness of a cafe corner

And in the nooks and crannies of a quiet song

The lyrics weaving in and out of my dusty heartstrings

Dulling my unusually painful sleepless nights

Paris is always a good idea.

Because even though the ratio of lonely people to happy people is 10:1

And even though people walk past me on the streets without a second glance

Paris is for loners

Who wander the streets on moonless nights

And wish upon sightless stars

For someone else to accompany them in their aloneness

Mentally throwing themselves to the wolves every chance they get

They create worlds and stories to combat their empty beds,

Lonely hearts,

And sleepless nights.