poem: confessions of a teenage elitist

i like being misunderstood. but i am not that complicated: i think am better than you because i think about grand things in the shower and you only stare and smile, your eyes drained out, your mind running clear and fast and going nowhere. i have various complexes: childhood trauma, childhood poverty, childhood isolation. i… Continue reading poem: confessions of a teenage elitist

poem: small chronicle of living in my head

silent, silent girls play at depression, play at deep aching wounds: as we really saw battles, as if our mothers died and our fathers went mad; as if we were raped on cement floors outside cities, men standing at the door and sharing cigarettes.   but, really, these girls are too fantastic and too normal:… Continue reading poem: small chronicle of living in my head

poem: i swear i’m not neurotic, i just have control issues.

she sat alone; men are formulas with no answer, with no reason, and she can lay things out nicely in her head, but hit /run program/ and it is errorerrorerrorerror. they are laughing at her; they are laughing at her when she goes into the room, when she goes to the front of the room,… Continue reading poem: i swear i’m not neurotic, i just have control issues.