Not.Ready.
this is the first poem I have written at bloomsburg. I wrote it earlier this morning.
this will be your poem of the century
the one where i tell you that though i may be a whore
i’ve got dignity
I’m not ready
to love again, “rest your head against me baby”
but when i saw her leave because she can’t love herself enough
i know it’s tough
i know the emergency room must have had cold floors
and not eating that food must have eaten a hole
(even though she forbade her body to eat.)
where there was once gold
but honestly, i wish she was here
I don’t even love her
I don’t even know her
i don’t really love her
i don’t really know her
i knew her back then
i loved her back then
Back in 4th grade
-she said i was her best friend
Back in 5th grade
I wanted to tell her how she she looked in that dress
Even that young I knew what beauty meant
