I can admit that sometimes the only reason I do things is so I’ll be able to write a poem about it later.I can admit that I am sometimes careless about the way I display myself,leaving open interpretation to the thing that is meso that others may unwittingly fall in love with it.I can admit that this is more methodical than carelessadmit that I like itthat it amuses mebeing the objectthe human embodiment of a contemporary art piecefor some young art lover to curatein their mind’s museum
but I am not really an art pieceand real love can only really existbetween two consenting humansso if you really love me, you’ll forgive me
for being addicted to the powerin hearing “You’re like, one of those pretty girls who doesn’t know she’s pretty”and knowing that the only reason anyone would think that is because
that’s exactly what I want them to think.--
Bush Confidence in the Time of LDRNaked in my bathroom mirrormy reflection looks like somethingstraight out of a 1970s pornoand I need to knowif you’ll find this sexyor gross?I like it.the primal mess of itI take pictures of itto send to youonly I never send them to youI watch the hairs floatbetween my legs in the bathtuband thinkthis is good.I contemplate combingand flat ironing itI want to get a true sense of the lengthI want to take pridein how much it has grown sincethe last time we were togetherintimate and hairlessIt exists as a direct testamenttangible proof of my faithfulnessto you.In another worldyou’d sing it’s praisesapplaud it’s beauty
The next time I see you
It will be shaved
This is a RelationshipLay your head on my belly and describe to me the many sounds of my digestive system. This is a relationship.
No one has ever cried while fucking me.
I have been the side chick oncecheated on neverand the girlfriend now.
I have been beautifulsexyhey light skinnedbabybabebaeboo
Now I am sometimes dandelionsometimes you
I have been jealous of other women on the internetwhile at the same time infatuated with other women on the internet
they say nobody wants somebody that nobody else wantsthey say you lose them how you get themthey say love is a battlethey say soulmatethey say the onethey say we fall
I say we chooseI say the difference between love and being in love is the difference between chicken salad and chicken in a salad.
I say I “love you” firstYou call me back the next day and you say the reason you can’t say “I love you” back is because you are very similar to a Hotpocket that tastes better cooked in the toaster oven than it does cooked in the microwave.
I understandI accept your heart in the form of your Netflix password
All poems by Chelsea Daniel