IWasStandingWithMyFriendWhenYouWalkedBy AndIHaveToSayYouHaveABeautifulSmile AmIBeingTooForward?OhLetMeStartOver SoIHopeEverythingIsGoingOkay It’sSoNiceOutButLaterIThinkIt’sGonnaRain ButHowThisHeatIsIWouldn’tComplain ActuallyIt’sPerfectDayForAnIceCreamCone There’sAPlaceThatIKnowThat’sPrettyGood 100%MilkYou’llSayMmmThat’sForSure It’sNotFarFromHereMaybeTheNextNeighborhood Was it...on like, 5th street? WellMaybeNotNowButICouldTakeYouSometime ThatIsIfYou’reNotBusyAndHaveSomeFreeTime IfWeCouldExchangeNumbersThatWouldBeSublime ItWouldBeMyTreatOfCourseForGoodEats I’mSorryITalkFastWhenIGetNervous AndIApologizeForAnyPossibleDisturbance ButHonestlyThoughItWasTotallyWorthIt OhNoI’mStartingToSweatSorry TextMeIfYou’reInterestedInThatIceCreamByTheWay I’llLeaveYouAloneNow Goodbye.
Just a dude mad nervous to talk to a girl
Whatever I write
can be dipped in inquiry, sprinkled in spirit, and polished with potential. I don't write solely to impress nor to be the best. I write to explore. And not so that the world can see me, but so I can see the world.
A short explanation of what I put into my writing and why I do it. Originally written to be an Instagram caption.
How funny it is that when you describe a girl you call her pretty, call her beautiful, call her gorgeous.
Our girls grow up with the only compliments they receive to be ones remarking their bodies and yet we wonder why we can't get them to eat. They grow up believing wither consciously or unconscious they are judges by the bodies. That the size of their jeans is their caste. That if they aren't pretty they are nothing. Our little girls slather on the makeup and step into their heels smile till the corners of their mouths crack as if life was a beauty pageant and success and happiness were prizes to be won. When you describe a boy you call his strong, call him tough, call him powerful. Put the weight of the world in his hands and hope he can handle it. Our men lead the way and our girls follow. Why when you see a girl you never call her intelligent, call her resourceful, call her powerful. Imagine a world where little girls weren't just bodies. They were the daughters of destiny and the friends of fate. They could do anything, and they were told that from the second they could listen. Imagine if our girls could look past their bodies, could pus aside shame and hate and learn to love the vessels. Imagine if our girls were powerful.
Ok; so just because I messed up the first time, doesn't mean I'll mess up the second time, too. Just give me a chance and I'll show you. You judged me by my first impression and that's not always the best. I guess the first time, I was nervous and a little stressed.
I overdosed on my cupid's arrow
I trip and fall at that first different "hello"
In which spring reflected, Soothes the jagged edges, Of today's unwelcome certainties.
Seasonally out of sync, I know. This wee poem was written in the spring of 2017. I remember the day well as I lost thousands of photos in a glitch-filled download. Went for a walk. My default approach to life's problems.
its the lightening strikes in the dead of winter
snaking down my spine its every blistering wind howling in the night
there's still one and a half months left
they’re the easiest to remember paying attention to the first impression how about you? perhaps hearts vision & perception