Member-only story
I’m Not Pretty
A Poem
whatever image you have of me —
banish it from your head right now
whatever concoction you conjured from fancy —
let it dissipate as tendrils from your mind
whatever dream you’ve made —
let it go, i say, and tire of it more and more
fantasy is not reality,
and i will never be what you want
i cannot be what you crave in the shadows
or through the ink of your pen
love is a fickle game,
and beauty always plays its part
her eyes are luminous orbs,
and her lips are pristine promises
mine are dull-water brown,
and my lips are always chapped
her thighs are daydreams
while mine are thunder clouds
her hair falls in curls and tumbles,
and mine is limp and lank as if i’m a horror
her skin is sun-kissed in just the right way
while mine is the kind only the shadows see
i am not what you could ever want —
i know this, i know this, i know this
