got on the train today,
and as it descended down towards home,
I got off two stops before.
saw a girl so empty and ugly,
I wanted to join her.
I met a little boy today, he was wearing blue, not red. got back on the train, felt bored, and as the train descended towards home, I stayed on, learnt my lesson, from the previous off. the windows covered in veins, like highways of rain. It's 11:03, the train was late. or I was early.

i just want to feel pretty
not the kind of pretty that people want to have *** with
but the kind of pretty that makes me feel happy with myself

When I'm bored
I like to go on pretty girls' profiles
And imagine what it must be like to be them

To post a picture
And get that many likes
To have their perfect hair
Perfect bodies
Perfect smiles
To be beautiful

Sometimes I feel pretty
But no one ever tells me I am

So I go to their profiles
To remind myself
Of what society can say
But refuses to say to me

And I conclude
That it must be
Because I'm
Ugly

my eyes aren't my own, they're my mothers.
my hair is flat, tired and unkept. it's lifeless.
skin soaked with thoughts of what were,
bruised with memories that will never leave.
scars little each road of the epidermis, burned
deep and stained.
they don't make me ugly. no.
my emotions make me ugly. my sick, twisted mind
and the thoughts i shouldn't have. the thoughts i have.
tired, tired, tired bones that creak with each step into normality.
i've built a home inside my rib cage, carved out a prison.
internalized my thoughts. kicked people out.
just me. it's just me and my heart, as it shouts and screams.
my brain keeps me company at night, whispering its dreams and its desires. it tells me who i am, what i want.
but it never lets me sleep. not really.
i wake up so tired, so old and tired.
my heart is restless through the day, calling out for your ears.
it talks to you, talks about you. i'm poisoned. love's sweet kiss.
the kiss of death. ugly to the bones, i'm so ugly.

I'm trapped and enclosed.

Buried under paranoia.

I fear he will leave.

Replaced by Chanel perfume and deception, cat like eyes and caramelized extensions.

Drowning under mental images I've created. Mentions being spoken.

Inevitable feelings I try to avoid, but I can not.

Her existence makes me melt, even though we have never met.

My thoughts are too much to bare.

I despise this naked evil.

bad poems
never cease to
inspire me
more than the
greatest poems

and i don't know
if its because i feel like
i can do better
or if i relate more to
the state of ugliness
than i do of
beauty.

a dog barks to start a fight with bubba
and he gets
mean like an ant who's
sugars' been stolen and I tell him
             that's an ugly dog
when ugly people populate the planet, I get mad,
but I don't bite their heads off.
                                        He got really calm after that
and I waved at a gardener
as if to say,
                   'It's okay,
                                   it won't happen again.'