Saturday, June 8, 2024

tomboy / big tits / hermit / pleasing shit

He asks me if my hair was red as a kid.
But I don't know; I've been avoiding that girl-
photos of her smile and the reminder I was 
a caterpillar posed to be a butterfly.

Yet, I'm arrested, still in my cocoon a worm.
Nose too red when I cry, and I don't know
how to do make up right, scabby knees.

What's the latest fashion trend? Too much work
to keep up only for the change again and again.
I have a shirt I love older than you; it's not new.

Yea, can't take the photos to show I'm cool,
never wanted too, don't know my hair texture,
what's a pretty package if the inside is trashed?

Finger with the bandaid; it's not giving cute-
I tried. Feel written off, cannot give pleasing.
If I can't give optics, if I'm just me, will you like?

Can't name an influencer; fuck I thought
aesthetics was what Aristotle wrote about
back when it was mimesis, before Instagram,
when it was epic poems not pink hair bows.
Yes, it's human drive to create beauty-
       but what if it is literally JUST that?

With big tits, still good enough for the men.
Dark elbows, never gonna be one of the girls.

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