I don't think I care about anything
as much as I care about love

and it's exhausting
because nobody cares about love.

it feels like a burden i carry alone.

and i can't put it down.

but i see why people do.

what i am is real

i've wanted
so badly
to be one of the pretty people
one of the sexy
flipping my hair
with the assurance that it will land perfectly on my shoulder
as i look back over the other
winking goodbye

sassy
prancing
carefree

i've wanted to be unforgettable

i've wanted to be a legend
even if only in your mind
even if we didn't last for ever
i've wanted you to look back on me
with wanting

wanted you to remember me like a movie
bo emerging from the tide
or pam in hot pants, sass-mouthing

i've wanted to be a thing of fiction
when what i am is real

how silly
i've tired of my fake self
but i wonder
when i see you gawking at starlets
if you ever saw the stars in my eyes
if your emotion will ever be as strong as your arousal
if i will ever believe i am enough
if you will...
and if you don't?