they tell me
'if you don't swim,
but baby i'm already down.
you in the pink jacket
how're you doing in
this deadbeat town?
tons of ghosts on these streets,
their eyes sunken, their ribcages hollow.
when they see me, i'm greeted with a grimace.
but i'm moving on
and wandering forests
of my imagination,
ideas raising from their graves
i've never been
smart but i'm learning
pretty but i ignore the mirror
likeable but i'm trying to be amicable
amazing but i'm okay with ordinary.