Q.T.

I wish I was brave enough to be myself

without cringing at my excitement or

the oversharing of my unrealized dreams.

I wish to hold feelings of my own

the space to feel safe in my unrest.

I wish I had bookish friends

Writing friends whom we could share poetry

swapping translations of our own romanticized history.

How gentle of a friendship one could have if pen paled

in cryptic cursive writing.

Smoking Marlboro 72s

Awake and glamour seeping out of pores

Old age staring at me in wrinkles and preservatives

I fantasize of relief

From drunken tension

Weed waiting at home

Heightened in waiting for

Filled lungs and sweet glamour of old rolled smoke.

I’ll straighten my spine

Stop hiding my hips and breasts.

Wash my face of powder and lipstick.

Creating glamour again the next day.

I’ll take better care of myself.

I’m yours.