Misfit With Messy Hair
She told me that I act like I have my shit together.
She told me that she thought I was a senior.
She told me that she thought I had style.
She told me that I am doing okay.
I did not have the heart to tell her the truth.
The truth about how hard it is to shower
Because I have to see my body naked and flawed.
The truth about how hard it is to eat
Because eating makes me feel fat and crazy.
The truth about how hard it is to sleep
Because my mind is working too hard.
She has so much faith in my ability
To not be seen as worthless.
She has a dream for me that I don’t
Even know how to begin living.
She looks up to me and I struggle
With seeing what she sees.
I’m a half assed misfit with messy hair
And yellowing teeth.
I’m overweight and drowning in greasy foods
And too much caffeine.
I love poetry more than sex because sometimes
Words mean more than actions.
I never deserved to be seen as shiny
And squeaky clean and beautiful.
I am too blind to see it myself.
But she sees beauty where I see disaster
And I guess it’s natural to love
The people content with being severely unloved.