I’m my own unfinished business

I’m overwhelmed and under-glazed
I’m making vases out of snakes
I’m a kiln half-full of mistakes
When kneading it, air’s overlooked
It’s gonna crack when it gets cooked
So self-forgiveness is the key
They’re re-sculpting my sanity
Mindfulness, humility
And taking time to care for me

-The Uncluded

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portrait in various shades of melodrama

I am nervous

 unsettled, unprepared,
impressed to the point of
intoxication

perhaps I am playing the part of
a girlchild, reincarnated from something striped
hands-shaking, violin bones (high-
strung)
perhaps it is/has been/will be
you
is it cliché to make comparisons to
kryptonite, to
an envelope delivered with a
white settling of
anthrax?

your smile tangles with the

half-poetry you breathe out instinctively, sharp and
wintered
you are surprising like
frostbite. the soft teeth of morning
freeze; and I, dull, wordless,
naive and lightning-struck
I am nervous
 —-
I like boys with strong convictions
and convicts with perfect diction
underdogs with good intentions
amputees with stamp collections

-Kimya Dawson, so nice, so smart
————–
hm enigmas.  you don’t meet very many of them which is sorta the point…  or you could argue that everyone is an engima.  or that no one is.  but please don’t.