She's ugly but I want her.
The truth is , we all know a gal like that.
And the truth is a lot like that gal.

The best writing is that which
Is raw, the kind of raw that oozes out of cupcakes,
And the kind of raw that is bright bubble gum pink on meat.
The kind of writing that the poet doesn’t
Think all the way through with their mind,
But has been thinking about for months
In their heart and just couldn’t find the
Words to say it.
Because poems that are raw aren’t just ugly;
They’re beautiful.

I climbed giant boulders
to gather wild berries for you
A heavenly golden lake stretched
across your vision.

Unfazed by my generous offering
Oblivious to the dragonfly hovering
You drowned yourself in screen-time, buffering
I waded out alone.

I picture wrapping my legs around you
the air full of scents of homely comfort
a long day lightened with sweet laughter
our minds rest, immersed in fictional realms

But online games take away our nights
Political trivialities and football highlights
I sit and dream of smoldering fires on campsites
While you fall asleep alone.

In darkness I wrestle with the devil
for my piece of present moment, untainted
I beg for black viscous sleep to drown me
to wake without feeling half of me is gone

And you wrap me in the soft fabric of your skin
And you chase away the sprites to let the light in
And you breathe for my lungs as the attack glows dim
And it's just you and me alone.

He hides in my closet
he has a scary look
with ridged nails
and pointy sharp white teeth

But he is shy and doesn't come out
till nightfall
when no one can see him
because he is insecure
and he doesn't want to be made fun of
by the other monsters who wander around

Every time I hear him come out
he is humming a tune
I would softly request him to sing
because I cannot sleep
when he would open his mouth

Wonderful words would come out
sounding excellently in tune
even though there was no background music
in my head, his singing sounded like a symphony
was playing the most lovely melody

If I could I would stay up all night
till dawn
when he would retreat back into the closet
I would listen to him all night

But as he sings
the melody floods me
and my eyes can not stay open
as I slip into a deep slumber
I would still hear him singing

When I wake up
my room is soundless
I would look in my closet to see if he is there
but he is hidden
where I cannot find him

Someone, somewhere out there thinks you’re beautiful—
Maybe.

Idk how ugly you are.

SUBURBAN CACOPHONY
is a mother yelling over the sound of the dishwasher
hanging grapes that dry against the yolk-orange wall
the local boy with mud under his nails
and the girl that smells like new york city
loud sunlight upon the hush still river
brown rust eating up white paint
father's office suit in the back of his dusty Jeep
screeching tires that tear past red-light lines
blood red sprinkles on the roadside's white daisies
birthday cake swallowed in tears

don't let these worlds collide,
they say -
for it only brings chaos
suburban cacophony hurts your ears
with a truth ugly to the eyes
leaves an imprint
like a sharp pendant pressed to the chest

I am very ugly
So don't try to convince me that
I am a very beautiful person
Because at the end of the day
I hate myself in every single way
And I'm not going to lie to myself by saying
There is beauty inside of me that matters
So rest assured I will remind myself
That I am a worthless, terrible person
And nothing you say will make me believe
I still deserve love
Because no matter what
I am not good enough to be loved
And I am in no position to believe that
Beauty does exist within me
Because whenever I look in the mirror I always think
Am I as ugly as people say?

(Now read bottom up)

Some people get to be pretty
And some get to be smart
I don't get to be either
So I have to fight with my whole heart

To some thinking comes easy
It's what their brain is meant to do
My brain is rather stupid
Even the simplest concepts seem new

Some people are dashing
Their looks speak beyond words
My looks wouldn't win first second
Not even third

Nothing has been easy
And that makes me tough
Cause I'm one hell of a woman
And all that fun stuff