a 2005 poem
the world is in love with you, embrace it with open arms. there are girls who will crumble before you like the cookies of our mothers. and you sit there, all fake and not real, and i'm here, jumping over you like a rope, and your mother is there in the kitchen, baking love in her oven. and you sit there smelling it's sugary smell, and you walk to her, and you begin to break before anything ever touches your lips.