eleven forty two.

john cougar mellencamp is filling my ears.
i should be resting my eyes, but instead i'm biting my nails.

i'm going to fail tomorrow and it's going to further serve the point of my personal inadequacy.

i never put much thought in to my body.
i was tall, and i had the features that i liked.
i was never lonely on the nights that it really would've mattered,
so i always thought i was doing alright.

it's my mind that makes me set my jaw late at night when i stand naked in front of the mirror, and that's a kind of insecurity that can't be solved by talk shows or ice cream or friendly pats on the back that are trimmed with gentle words of confidence.

i can't make myself focus on these ap courses. on these multiple, perfect scores. on the records that were broken and set by me, whether soley in the school or all of the state. i don't care, i don't care, i don't care. i'd throw my whole GPA out the window to simply understand mathematics and science. but i won't. i won't even try because i'll never grasp it naturally and i fucking hate myself when i realize that.

these are the terms i never wanted to come to.
this is the deal i never intended to cut.

you tell me i have a gift with words.
but words don't give you a gold trim to your blue cap.
words won't mean you give a speech june 8th, 2010.


even an artist can be neurotic and obsessive,
and i'm not perfect enough for my own standards yet.
these are walls i'll never scale,
and it makes me feel this big.