a different kind of poetry.

words like this:
understand
freckles
belong
curves
sleep
"cool"
actually cool
coffee
many
questions
little
different
love?
blanket
dreams
black
skinny


i understand why his freckles lie on the bridge of his strong nose. it's because they belong there. i want someone who loves the way my body curves at inappropriate spots for today's fashion industry. sleep is my companion and my enemy. i fear to be judged by people that are "cool" but really i fear those who are actually cool. coffee is great in the morning, but not when there's too much creamer. or too little for that matter. there are many questions that i have. there are little that i actually ask. he's different than the others. can i really love? it felt right with the blanket over my shoulders, to protect my back from the cold. in my dreams, nothing really makes sense except for the emotions that lie under. everything i'm buying is black lately, and i no longer have an intense desire to be skinny. and this is my life.

they don't understand. sometimes i wish i had freckles. they would not belong on my face... but sometimes i feel like a mole out of place. i don't want a straight road life. i would like bumps and curves and a yellow-line passing zone please. sleep comes at the wrong times if you ask me. sometimes i think that i am a "cool" and then see people who are actually cool and i feel really stupid. in the morning, coffee wakes me up and makes my breath smell like a teacher's. how many friends do i truly have? what's the point in asking these questions? little do they know, we are different. you. me. her. him. other him. do we all know each other? is this love? that i let my friends borrow my blankets? he gave me his. i don't have enough dreams... i love the nothing and everything that they are. black is associated with fright, but i like the mystery in it's no-color color. i would be goth. no. i'm not skinny.