streams of speech rolling out of me
filling up my room with feeling
swimming in our own dealings
was it equal?
was it real?
storms of chaos were brewing
filling up all my perception
neglected my honed senses
was it fair?
was it canon?
stranded in my shame
swimming to a shallow grave
why must i hide?
why must i hide?

Maybe I’m too simple
or too shallow
but I’m not angry.
What’s wrong with me?

I was trying to think
of someone I hate,
Jews, CIS guys, republicans,
palestinians, blacks, democrats,
the left handed, authority figures,
central americans, parents, vagrants,
the usual suspects, but I’m coming up empty

Things aren’t perfect
don’t get me wrong
I’ve got a pug nose
a flat chest
a giant forehead
and too much work to do
but I’m trying my best—

Worse yet, I’ve no plummeting anxieties
no obvious neurosis
—that one could be a misdiagnosis
no painful hangnails
no sad life tales
no addictions to defend
or hated ex-boyfriends
I have no emo hooks to pin my verse.
no current melodramas to cozen and coerce
between you and me, I think I’m off the rails
It’s really no wonder my poetry pales.

Yeah, that’s what’s wrong with me.
.
.
Songs for this:
Gee, Doctor by Dimie Cat
Sweet Lovin' (feat. Anna-Luca & Iain Mackenzie) by Club des Belugas

"I see you in both ways-
not the optimist. He fails to choose naturally.

You are that one cake among the rest
that presents herself with multiple coats of frosting,
no one would dare cut you open after appreciating your beauty -
he's afraid to taste something suspicious."

I should have sent my love letters to Cupid
And ask Destiny for the right time.
Yet stubborn as I am, I remain still…

Some loves are too shallow for me to dive into
So, I remain in the shoreline,
always testing the waters…