Is it just me
or do you ever feel like you will never quite be
enough
enough for someone
And baby I know I'm not perfect,
my hair frizzes,
I don't have a flat stomach,
I do not have  grace and eloquence,
and so many girls do,
but I hope, to you, this doesn't matter.
I hope you see a girl prettier than me and only hug me closer to your side,
like I was your world and I'd slip away if you let go.
I hope you love each flaw,
each freckle,
each scar upon my skin,
and kiss them everyday,
reciting how beautiful I am until I believe you.
And I can only hope whatever connection that burns inside of us is strong enough to make you resist every temptation
every lady with long, tanned legs.
Because I am pale, I am fragile, I am scarred and I am the underdog
in this story.
In this world of self-loathing, jealousy, and hatred,
please make me feel
good **enough

Your voice
can't be produced
in my head
five years you've been
dead
and I
miss
you

Posted by the door
watching as the "bouncers"
let in girl after girl
only to whisper "*****"
behind their backs
meanwhile
polite, kind, little me
gets stopped while the rest of the pile
trip on in, faces plastered with smiles
I got the denial.
A stranger from the window
one hand on chase
offered me a shot
and then proceeded
to correct himself,
"I meant a *** shot in the face"
then disappears with a jeer
so I turned and
walked home alone
up the stairs of stone
to this bed
why be righteous at all
when given this ****
over and over
might as well
sleep/be dead

I'm laying with my
dome on the dashboard
the engine revs and comes alive
here I am with my foot to the floor
back again for another drive
because I love this machine
more than people love me
its seats caressing as
I cry
but no matter
how much I scream
"Why,
why?"
it stays silent
quiet
like my friends
that have died.