i'm a genius, i'm a idot, i'm a dynamo, i'm barely functioning, i'm a starbeam, i'm a sweat-starved desert plant always wondering why they made the world so thirsty and why no god wanted me to bloom

i'm hilarious, i'm unbearable, i'm shedding yet another, i'm buried alive, i'm a three-year sunray smiling down on one more barren rock, wondering where all the people went, I knew them when I was only seven minutes old

i think poetry is stupid, it's my favorite thing, i'm the cork suffocating the teeny ship, i'm the howlwind crooning through another craggy afternoon, i'm verified, i'm illegal in an increasing number of states, i'm resentful of having been born in an age where there's medicine enough to have saved me from calamity but no cure for dragons

i'm the ice cracked by a footstep, i'm so hungry for love, i'm the coral watching killer waves refuse support groups, i'm literally begging, i'm an innovative paper that decides whether your words deserve to survive and i will evaporate every last bastard cry


i'm scurrying under the fridge, i'm the brief bloom of youth, i'm the tornado picking and choosing my favorite flavor of house from a gift-wrapped city, i'm not even an office i'm just a felt-stapled partition and i only get to see the backs of thumb-tacked baby photos

i'm a new kind of tired. i'm the fourth smokestack, just for show. the world would look wrong without me. i'm wondering how much better if we didn't keep losing our best to despair. i'm bawling. we're still here