Lcababy

Me. At ten to eight not quite alone Remotely stuck in a popular coffee shop Sipping on my too-sweet latte Contemplating whether or not I can think up Anything at all worth writing or If I’m just depressed beyond emotion By osmosis or Something akin to apathy. And it took us two and a half Plates to remember we said we’re Getting fat too fat to live like this But really I’m pretty skinny and just getting off A bad couple of months. This kind of thinking usually leads to Some introspective meditation of self-health Thinking whether I’m content or complacent But a good friend thinks he has HIV So I guess I can’t have any valid claim To complain about the dreariness and The melancholy of the color of brown of This table my pen and paper sit on. Really, I think the people in my life Are fingers attached to strings, Exhibiting the marionette qualities of A stagnant existence wherein I distance Myself from realistic futures and Healthy friendships with healthy people.

My insecurities are miming me Writing out my bad dreams like Narrative or Poetry or Anything else with letter-symbols Intangible but meaningful Or not. Homer set out on an Odyssey of his own when He wrote his epic poetry But there are people who write shit on Tumblr Whose deepest, darkest, worst moments are Rejection or Mediocre self-confidence. I'm tired of hearing about your petty fucking Nerd pride And I'm bored of these ballistae of Reasons why she's beautiful. Give me substance and Energy and Abstraction and Dare to go beyond what your Demographic Decided was art. At each "Love me back" I feel myself groaning With every bit as much fervor as Leather boots Creaking. My insecurities are miming me. As I get bigger and stronger, They become stronger and bigger. And they are silent. And they are silent. And they are silent. And all you can talk about is boys? Reach out to me. We're all terrified together. Not a single one of us Writerly types Is okay in the head. We all have felt those words already so Please Think of something that Doesn't make me want To kill myself More than I already do. Thanks. That's all.

Toaster Strudels have burnt my tongue.