a little jig with the birds

I took all my why’s and what for’s one day

and threw em like confetti out the window

fluttering and cutting through the air

they just fell to the ground as the wind

picked up and the cars and people

mulled through the day dragging with them

my black confetti underfoot and tire

picking at em like stuck gum

confused in chaos

I watched just for a little as they disappeared

and the crowds dispersed with the morning

afternoon and night till all was quiet again

all but me shaking my unchained head

and doing a little jig with the birds.

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you’re ugly?

If you

can be

comfortable

with you’re ugly,

you can be

everything

they said

you weren’t.

Peer Pressure is an Infinite Thing.

Lots of makeup.
Lots and lots of makeup.
To invent the perfect you.

That stuff clogs your pores you know.
Believe it or not.
I wore makeup too.

But nobody told me
it didn’t match my skin tone.
Nobody but a few.

You can’t break a kid’s spirit like that.
It’s unnatural.
But that’s what we do.

That’s what’s beautiful?
I beg to differ.
That’s not the perfect you.

But it’s under there.
Somewhere.
Working harder every day.