Gravitas
Veritas
Give a toss

I wish to sit by the weeping willow
And stare at the fields.
Listen to birdsong
and wear a crown of wildflowers.
Why do we have to live so terribly,
In the city?

But I will meet you under the weeping willow
And you, under the hard oak.
Let us braid our hair,
and live in a cottage.
admiring the sombre hues
and the glowing Northern lights.

Because we are poets.
And we live up here.

If the harsh words you spoke

could ever rebound,  

you would have known

how painful they are.

I’m not pretty
I’ve never been pretty
And I doubt I’ll ever be
I compare myself to other girls
The ones with flat stomachs
And skinny waists
The waists I try to get
I starve myself
I only eat around people I care about
So they won’t worry
I compare myself to the girls with the pretty hair
The brunettes and the blondes
I yearn to be like them
I compare myself to the girls with the better face shapes
The ones I try to be with makeup
I compare myself to the girls with prettier faces
The ones with better skin
The ones with whiter teeth
The ones with fuller chests
Cause I know
I know
I’ll never be like them

Feminist energy
Clout, frigid desire of shattered coat racks