waste of a year you’re the worst looking boy I’ve ever seen I said 

in the voice of a mirror which was fakeglass and bad fathers 

 

look this is the last night of the harvest 

therefore I can ramshackle besides 

 

or wear whatever I want I’ll keep 

a week’s worth of monday

 

milk money in a jar and mirror it’s your face 

that suckergut socks and looks like a pumpkin 

 

gone soilrot on the stoop 

mirror I’m waiting for you 

 

to shatter when I shroud myself in lace 

in orchid lobes practice my duck walk 

 

my clammerheel run away you waste of a boy 

besides I’m barely a boy I’m one half miracle 

 

the other half is the sky you see we’re both stupid and full of light 

 

so if this wallpaper doesn’t hurry up and damask 

I’ll do it myself with mascara after all I’m made up 

 

I’m impossible I’m more myth than the bullet 

that did homecoming or the knuckle that summered 

 

in the parking lot mirror 

zip me up mirror drag me into this dress 

 

this night I’m too old for 

else I’ll swallow a bucket of jewelry

 

and spend the night tricking 

boys with this hand me down lack 

 

of a smooth fit mirror tonight I’ll let it fiction 

I’ll open my begmouth & eat every bullet 

 

like a pillowful of candied razors

 

waste of a prom year besides I’ll be the prettiest boy

they’ve ever seen bleed