Hi.
I’m a starving artist.
But not for what you’re hungry for.
I want... more.
Fame and money is not for me
but neither is the
one big happy family
I'm a starving artist
and not because my belly's empty
although it is
and not because you don't know my name
although you don't
I'm starving because my body burns
happiness like my metabolism burnt fat
which caused the other girls to hate me
because I looked like what they wanted to look like
even though I didn't like what I looked like
so I'd starve myself or binge myself to fill a void that wasn't there.
I'm a starving artist
not because I'm not someone better
but because it's been so long
oh so long
since I've been
me.

I like things that are ugly
Like dirt
but not the nice dirt
you know the kind lightly sticks to wrists
the kind that you can easily wipe off
not that kind
I like the ugly kind
the seep into your shoes kind
the ruin a wardrobe kind
the type of dirt that you didn't know a second ago
but the type you'll know for years to come
I like things that are ugly
like a broken pool cue
but not the nice kind
the one with the decent tip
the one that we all call "old reliable"
not that one
I like the shattered one
the one we fear will break each time
the kind that all the chalk in the world couldn't mend
I like things that are ugly
Like an unmade bed
but not the nice kind
the ruffled sheets that beckon you to enter
not that kind
I like my blankets strewn about
the pillow cases stained with ketchup
the overwhelming sense of discomfort
those are the beds I like
I like things that are ugly
Like a crying girl
but not the pretty one alone on a bus
crying about some boy from some town
wishing she remembered how it felt before she'd loved
not that kind
I like the kind that are shaken, disheveled
unfinished puzzles beckoning to be solved
but fully aware they came without all the pieces

I like things that are Ugly

You're afraid of the finish line
because if you see it you might have to cross it

here is an anniversary letter
addressed to you
I think ours was last week
chances are this is past due
consider this my vow of affection
for what I write in these next 30 lines
will be my most sincere of words
even if I spoke a billion times

you are not the last thing on my mind
before I go to sleep
or the first thing
when I awake
I do not lust for you like Juliet
your Romeo I'll never be
but Romeo is dead
and I'm as happy as can be

I've loved before
and trust me it's no fun
constant musing about the future
how this one is really "the one"
it's a trial as old as
the woman who's teeth no longer function
love is love is love is...
love is much to do about nothing

and then I found you
with brown eyes and brown hair
simple as the letter k
eyes that looked but didn't stare
maybe you love me
although I hope you don't
maybe you'll think of marriage
although I hope you won't

In Conclusion
I'll bid you adieu
I am not in love with you
and that's what I love most about you
#

And typed them on a page
no filter just complete
sunken rage
no rhyme scheme anymore just lines
one after another
I'm scared I'll never satisfy a woman
not only sexually but intellectually
professionally, physically
I'm afraid I let the right person go
and now they won't come back
I'm scared that we only get one shot at life
and I'm blowing it by typing on a computer in my bed
I'm scared Ill die old
a corpse of unfulfilled potential
instead of a young body filled with it
I'm scared I'm the only that thinks about
these things and the only one
I can talk about these things with
is my therapist who doesn't want to hear
about them anyway
so I tell her that I am happy
I am scared because I don't always feel this way
some days weeks months go by where I don't think about writing
and I swear in that time I'm happier
so what is it about depression that bring my pen to the page
I'm scared that I use poetic metaphors to cloak actual feelings
I'm scared that someone whose opinion I value will read this and think less of me
I'm scared that one day down the road I'll come back to this
for the first time
but I'll close the tab before it opens
and go scroll through twitter or facebook
or instagram
because sometimes it's easier to just not feel for a little bit
I'm scared that I'm waiting for a moment that will never come
I'm scared to go to the gym so I've forced myself to be content with my body
which is fine but it isn't as good
as it could be
and that's all on me
I'm scared that I'm my greatest enemy
and also my greatest friend
and maybe both want me to fail
because sometimes it feels good to let yourself rest on your own shoulder

There. All out.

I like the way your words taste
not nearly copacetic daffodils
but a boisterous bouquet of
letters tied so neatly
so crisply
that I dare not close my ears
even just for a second
because a time without you in my mind
is one I'd rather leave behind

A man placed a rose over a mass grave
and said to me
take all the Evil in the world
and make Art out of it