He said I was so beautiful
I said beautiful was an incredibly lazy, unappealing and shallow way to describe the soul that inhabits my body

That soul is full of yearning for tomorrow
She is constantly hunting for the next adventure and looking for it in places nobody else looks
Her mind is full of words and lyrics and melodies
Her heart is so overflowing with love and compassion and kindness for even the smallest of creatures
She can smile in a corner to herself thinking of jokes from weeks ago, and that smile still lights up a room
She sometimes laughs out loud at her own hilarity and everyone in the room is caught up in the contagion that is her giggle
Her whole demeanor rests on the sole fact that she wakes up and does better than she did yesterday

So sure, beauty is a sweet word
But beautiful sure is a lousy way to capture my soul's presence.

Sometimes I feel like the greatest, but most of the time I feel like the worst, the worst poet of all the living poets.

The back of my head pulses
Rosey, warm cheeks under my
Very sore and sensitive eyes
ill wash my body and the soap
Dilutes my skin but
The toxins are from within
Days of being away
But i cant stay
And feeling as though in a rut
Shut the door
Alone time

Drousy still days
of windy aggressive motion
cutting through the nonsense
my head in the clouds