I don't care to be talented.
I don't care to be impressive.
I don't care to be deep,
Or eloquent,
Or artistic,
Or famous,
Or beautiful,
Or intelligent.
I care nothing for those things
In the face of how I want to be what you want.
They pale
In the light of how I want to be with you.
If I had them and could give them up for you,
I would shed them like a second skin
Without
A second thought.

I have no use for beauties if I can be happy.
And I think, perhaps, that is why I never have been.