Self Worth At 19

Dancing tiptoe on this storm cloud

known as Washington


and delicate

am I now


to clasp

my hand across another man's cheek.

Falling sidelong across this moonbeam

known as my soul


with the top down

screaming in this rain storm

that I want a way out.

What I want...

What I need

can not grow its roots here.

Cowering ecstasy within the back of his shoulder

known as love making



heavenly with his heart beating against mine.


am I


through this light

forever recognized as hate

and love

all to foreign to these eyes

I just want a warm body next to me

to cry

at the thought of the dead weight that I'm carrying around

like a cross

and the ideal

"Who would Jesus bomb?"



would rather be an extension

of peace

and power

within my flow

and curve.

Foundering slightly underneath the idea of none-existence

because what else is there

to experience

and fall through

what flavor

should I take on today

to let him kiss my neck in longing

rather then lust.

I look so good

inside my smile

so sweet

so blameless

in the fact that you know nothing about me yet.

Blinding innocence creeping across the floor like an animal.

However uncertain I am of this place

and the fact

that I'm allowing myself redemption

and blooming

against femininity

and objectivity

like fancy perfume

aged to perfection.

My teens meant nothing

blank reproduction of feelings

to keep me awake at night

with the notion of loving those people all of my life.

Naked aggression on a golden platter made of silk


for Christ sake I'm worth so much more then that.