Head and Heart

I annoy myself,

my God I do,

One moment, I love my soul,

I am the sun and I can see my rays stretched from my skin,

eyes and lips,

reaching others and painting them gold.

Other times, I hate my mind, my heart,

I am a void and I can see black smoke ripping from my throat,

teeth and fingernails,

reaching others and draining them dry.

Oh, I’m so dramatic,

I use big words, metaphors and imagine myself,

terribly interesting and spiritual.

I’m a good person, a good person, a good, person

No, I’m a pretentious girl with enough anxiety to fill the Nile.

And enough self-hate to fill a swimming pool

(See, that’s not even true.)

I love, I’m a child, what is love?

I describe it eloquently, I describe hate and pain and rage

I am a baby in the roots of the world, how can I understand?

I demand from my friends, my Head and my Heart ,

I demand their affection, their love and time,

but I’m a child in the ways of people,

I don’t understand the norm, what is wrong and what’s right?

I can’t say this, can’t act like that, I can talk about suicide, but if I mention love


I can warm myself by the light of their affection,

but move slowly, don’t scare them away,

they’re too nervous, I’m too open?

Too closed off?

Why is it when I decide to feel something,

I pick Depression and Cynicism wrapped in charisma and a killer smile,

I pick Self-Hate and Suicide wreathed in laughter and gorgeous lips.

I suppose, because, we’re all a little fucked up

I want to heal and love

and that’s just my type.




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