even though cupid has hemorrhoids and you’ll never be famous


don’t go worrying
about everything
I mean
there’s not
a hell of a lot
you can do anyway

I mean what’s the
point of turning
inside out
over a
little thing

but we do it
and we
do it every day
and for
whatever reason
we do it pretty
damn well

we swallow
the tigers
of our
own insecurity

we dress ourselves
in the shadows
of enemies

we fight back
against
the swans
and the rosebushes

we charge
up
and down
stairways
hollering at
postmen
and little girls
jumping rope

we refuse
the sunlight

we embrace
rainclouds
and earthquakes
dirty toilets
and stale bread
and for
whatever
reason
we do it
every day

we can’t seem
to live
without it

without deflated
basketballs
airline wreckages
drug-addled
teens and
unpaid electric bills

without these often
disorderly and
wreaking misfortunes

but still we wake
every day
drop two eggs
in the pan
while we check
our phone
messages
and our
Facebook messages

hoping someone will
love us as much
as we love
the idea
of being loved