Pragmatic me Doesn’t like this girl You can’t depend on her Too complex to understand She cries at the worst times

Down to earth I am but of dust Dust particles I see floating in the air Carbon molecules

Look in the mirror What is it you see? Hazel eyes above your Favorite black dress Looks clean and fresh

How can I write how I feel When what I feel is nothing? How can I tell you what I need, What is wrong? When what is wrong

Her fingernails Natural Long Pointed On fingers

I need to tell you How to survive With our disposition It’s okay to cry Maybe

Water Beach pools and fountains Rivers creeks and waterfalls The sound The feel Floating Weightless

Mis manchas de Bambi Manchas blancas Cubren mi cuerpo La gente se queda mirando Pero no les da asco

The more you treat me like a nag The more I become one I’m sorry if I micromanage Your clean clothes Your hot meals

Does the world need Another book? Another poem? I add one more to the pile To be left alone

When we are young we strive to be cool with our clothes and the way we move and our friends with swag as adults though our friends be co…

The medication is not me But neither is the sickness it tre… You may hear its effects In my voice In my opinions

Yo te amo Tres palabras Que solucionen todo Para la mujer Tan complicada

Filler words Put me to sleep Added to cushion Take away my pillow Blunt words to wake up

Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt