No
you are not misunderstood
that's just what people who dislike themselves
say.

If I could do it all, know that I would,
but I can't, and I'm not sure what to even do,
but I've figured out that you can't be misunderstood,
if everyone knows they can't understand you.

When you look at me
Just what do you see?
Do you see someone beautiful
Loving and free?

Do you see an intelligence
Witty and smart?
Or someone creative
And gifted at art?

Or perhaps, perhaps,
Perhaps I'm a failure.
Maybe I'm stupid,
And ugly, and bland.
Maybe you hate me.
Maybe everyone should.

Or maybe,
If you hate me,
I'm misunderstood.

Even if you love me
If we get along
You still might not,
Likely don't know me at all.

Calling up guttural
half moon mornings deepen
something throaty
An inarticulate song
That in between place
so nondescript

Hard plastic ashtray
with burnt smudgings
that cannot be completely cleaned
Though it has less permanence
knowing these types of moons
will come back around
and make themselves known again
Yet still, misunderstood

There is a measurement
of light and dark
and a visibility of
smudgings here
and over there
Opening vocal chords
to give it a sound
leaves just a gritty inner tone

i was careless
as more often
i am indecisive
i'm used to say
it was me -
faults of my own
stupidity.

i guess i
made mistakes
more than
i can count
  - often they
knew im guilty
if so i let them
misunderstood me

i see it now
it was me

She was the smoke that arose from the tip of my cigarette,
Covering me with her essence.
Insisting that I wrap my lips around her.
I held her tight,
Staining my fingers with her.
Not once did she have to prove what was seen as clear she as could have indicated.
That she was mine just as much as I was hers.
A film of smoke dancing between us both,
I knew the damage that she caused internally.

Eternally. None of that mattered as our communication was silent.
Knowing what we both sought in each other.
Replacing my need with her very embrace.
Not once was it hard to breathe. Staining my lips with desire.
Thumping the layers of where we stood off into the wind.
Enticing me with the bright spark that set her ablaze.
The thrill of her knowing that I craved her.
******* her with my eyes.
Granting me the clarification of a moments peace.
I wrapped my lips around her,
Blowing her back out as the smoke that filled my lungs.
A lukewarm kiss, her lips pressed against mine.
We accepted each other as we were.
Standing in solace.
We no longer belonged to ourselves but each other

Who of you know
love such as this?
Such love that lives
in lying aloof on long nights
in waves of worry,
weary of losing
love such as this,
that can cause such loathing
from joy to joyless.

In knowing,
in not knowing
and in tides of enchantment,
Love such as this
tears and tears up in our eyes.
Such love that is blinding
or fragile or lies,
lies misunderstood;
this love envious
and fried.