people say that i am an ugly beauty
and this has confused me since i was small
i didn’t know the word “contradiction”
at the time
but i knew “ugly” was bad
and sometimes “beauty” was worse
i was a child raised on slow nirvana and videocameras
with tv static permanently fizzling in my brain
the colours of a signal gone forever
and ingrained at 2 am
psychedelic turns of light
filling all my memories
ones that i know do not exist
and never have existed
tripping over wires and smoke
scrap pieces of paper crumpled
like my bedsheets
warmth in skin
is distant
and long nights are longer
bic’s produce fire instead of ink
and burn my lungs
broken cameras
don’t have broken pictures
but a broken heart
produces a broken person
i am everything and nothing
i walk the fine line
i am sad and happy and
‘psychedelic turns of light”
is so fake but so true
so here i am-
not everything and nothing
but something in between
- fin -