of the poets did
for there were many woes
the woes they couldn't
woes that stayed on the estate's
poets tormented by woes
day and night
and there was no respite
for their plight
the woes were never
the woes not ever
the woes such as
taking works in pilfering
so too the trolls on
on them no firm
You round up because what difference is a quarter of a inch
Heels, depending on the size, will make you the average height
Leggings and sweats will bunch at your ankles
Shirts become dresses, but only for you
Dress hems hit the floor, but only for you
Maxi skirts become maxi dresses
Having to hem every single pair of jeans
Sleeves. Sleeves are far too long
"Petite" clothing doesn't fit either
Step stools are your best friend
Jumping for something that's just out of reach works too
Constantly being mistaken for a 16 year old
(Even if you are turning 20 this year)
Being used as an armrest by someone who thinks they're funny
Stuck in the front for every group photo
There's that awkward height difference between you and everyone
Standing on tiptoes and having the guy lean down for a kiss
You hate sports that require tall people, like volleyball and basketball
And yet, you wouldn't change your height for the world
I refuse to let the party die
I never want the high to go away
The thrill of being able to say,
What you want to say
And in that moment
You figure out
That you're drunk,
You'll be in a single, twin bed
Waking up to a phone alarm
Wondering how you ended up here
Miles away from home
tic tac toe to me
isn’t what you think
in fact it really stinks
this is what you think:
that I’m not true
because I follow
the directions on my orange bottle
tic tac toe to me
is a lengthy process
I’ve been off of them;
I cared about myself way less
tic tac toe to you
just reminds you of me;
just like everything else.
reminds you of all my tells.
tic tac toe resolves our woes
they can go from head to toes
I’ll never fill a void…
you’ll only think I toyed
say say, "poems"
orbit around teenage angst or "melodrama"
and unrequited love or a "15 year old's infatuation"
with the relishes of teenage woes
alongside skanky whores
were reversed roles in a millennial
battle ; a literacy war
say say, "poets"
clad in magniloquent scrapes
of tight skin, "grandiose" leather
that screech tumblr or more commonly known "fashion"
were the luminescent windows
to that "boy's soul" or obnoxious dick
say say "teens"
as infertile as neglected garden soil
had fervent thoughts on "feminism"
or as the males see it as misandry
and whose words did not revolve
around themselves or "ignorance"
then maybe bloods wouldn't boil
past water's b.p.
and heads wouldn't load with loathe or "insecurities"
and hearts wouldn't heal with blood
| say say - m.m |