What am I
I think I like to be organized
And wear flowery perfumes
And smile and be happy
Yet I also have a fire in me
I can't seem to extinguish
That rises up and out of my belly
Lighting up my emerald green eyes
Everyone is full of talk
I am too
Sometimes
But when I get very angry
I go out and say it
I will
And I do
Sometimes I feel light and fluffy
Which is most of the time
When I'm alone I feel both
Organized
Yet messy
But I like feeling organized
And cleaning
Because I can feel myself losing control sometimes
And I really
Really don't like that feeling
At all
When things spiral out of control
But I like the color pink, and fast cars with mature people, I like nose piercings, and crocheted headbands, and floral leggings, and smiles, and bangs, and short cute blonde bobs, but I like adrenaline and roller coasters, and scary movies and ghosts and murder mysteries and romances, I also like self help books, and little matching bags, and floral print, but I also live in a place where I am not preppy, yet I did not grow up in a household where everything was always falling apart. What am I, living in this world of in between. Of ice coffee and cigarettes, and good grades and skipping class. What am I. I don't know.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Goodbye
Poetry•••Nicotine••• I wish you would've chosen me Over the nicotine And the alcohol The motor oil Running through you're veins I gave you a buzz But I wasn't a can I was a high You could never get back if I left Everything in your life was replac...
