Why Life is Beautifully Constructed Yet Poorly Executed, Part 1
I love how when you’re depressed,
people always take the time to tell you,
“No one likes you when you’re sad.”
Which is why you thought you were sad to begin with.
Because no one likes you
and you’re alone.
So your over-focused sullen quiet mind starts wondering
who all these mystery fucking people are
who apparently love you so much when you’re
happy
so much that they can’t even express it
because it hurts so much
that they can’t let it out.
Yeah, that’s it. That’s why you’re winning all
the secret, silent popularity contests.
They’re throwing you secret parades.
My phone rings silently off the hook.
The love you so much, it can’t be revealed
because then everyone else would know.
You’re the best, no really, so they make it seem like
no one likes you.
Yeah, that’s it.
Bitch.
Crush #128
When you smile like that
I feel like I’ve seen
that look somewhere
before, somewhere down
high school corridors,
you all geeked-out and cute and shit,
laughing at my disaffected
youth jokes, while I
marvel in the fact that
you get my disaffected
youth jokes, and your
eyes glancing sideways
like you think you’re in
love with that guy that
everybody loves, accent
the everybody, but my
way, the look twinkles
like you might crush
me with a crush, that
I won’t realize till
we hangout for the 37th
time, down at the
pizza place by school,
and I’ll wonder if
in a scattered moment
of eye contact,
locked stare, you’ll let
me kiss you, cause
like an epiphany
it’ll occur to me that
you might want to
kiss me, since we’re
hanging out for the 37th
time, but then I’ll
figure that I’m stupid
because someone as
amazing as you (which
I’m again thinking to
myself for the 37th
time) couldn’t really
want to kiss a
geek loser like me
but perhaps then in
the whirl sputter spur
of Ginsberg’s starry
dynamo, the hand
of the moment slaps
me on the back
and knocks me right
into you, and a kiss
makes magic in
a back alley pizza
shop after school
afternoon kind of
way, and then I’ll
believe in all the shit
that haunts my mind
when I try to sleep,
and pray for truth
in a way I sometimes
think might be me
and you.
