portrait in various shades of melodrama

I am nervous

 unsettled, unprepared,
impressed to the point of

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

your smile tangles with the

half-poetry you breathe out instinctively, sharp and
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.