7.31.2013

sex object.

my number’s plastered on the
bathroom walls

and they’re right, i guess. i’m a
damn good time

sometimes i feel like it’s all i’m
good for. but i want to be
beautiful, i want to be
someone’s first choice, i want
to be loved.

i want you to wake up thinking about me, go to
sleep thinking about me, your sleep to be
filled with
dreams of
me.

but i’m not the prettiest or the
smartest or the
funniest or
anything cool like
that.

but i guess if i get
out of my bed and
into the world, someone might
see me for me and

i could have more.


written for movaten.

7.27.2013

easy.

i live my life out like a
spectacle, keeping all
nonjudgmental parties mesmerized with my
wildly exaggerated tales of
romance

i am little apart from my
sexual escapades, i am
everyone's favorite
extracurricular activity

i care too little and i
care too much

all at once.

i'm not the girl you bring home to your
parents, i'm the
girl you try to
get into your
bed

'cause i'm a lot of fun, really
as long as you
keep a safe
distance

7.26.2013

myself and my pen.

i write poems

cheesy,
angsty,
heartfelt,
honest,
transparent poems.

they may be
obvious, but this is what i
have to offer the
world at
large, so

from them, i hope you glean some semblance of
inspiration, or
a smile, or
comfort in
knowing that you are
absolutely not
alone.

if for no other
purpose than to have
spoken in my own
voice, they are
worth something to
me.

mixed signals.

fingers intertwined, bodies
tangled together, lips
well acquainted, my
feelings not so
reciprocated. still, she
shows me her
heart before she
runs for the
door.

and she’s beautiful.

all my insecurities at the
forefront of my
mind.

will she.
won’t she.

a million reasons not to, but i
just
don’t
care.

no calm.
no comfort.
no rationality.
no rest.

she won’t let me in and she
won’t let me be.


written for movaten.

7.01.2013

cyclical.

awakened to the
stench of
yesterday's alcohol. entirely numb to what
should be today's
regret.

stumbling out of
bed into a
waste bin full of
condoms and
candy wrappers without an ounce of
shame.

incapable of
recollecting evenings previous. so, so
many drinks
ago.

throwing on a dress
grabbing the bottle and
out the door and onto round
whatever this is.