I’m not inspirational
I couldn’t write a hundred words about myself
About my lashes, my sight, my health
My bones, organs, and mouth
The words that I speak
Thoughts I breed
Tunnels through which I bleed
The sadness on which I feed
I’ve been compared to Prufrock
I’ve been compared to Poe
Watch the ticking of the clock
My skin as white as snow
Veiny eyed, and sorrow side
Future ends and rafts subside
And for all the people like me
Can agree to disagree
That this world was too much
And not enough
There you go, a hundred words