(you're going to need to ask me about this poem's motivation. It's one of my more noteworthy experiences I've been through)

January 11th, 2007

We want to be noticed.
We want to be loved.
We want to be taken,
But not forgranted.

Why is it that when
We are noticed,
We seem to be loved
And someone is taken by us--
We cower, snicker and escape
If he is not the ideal "he"?

JANUARY 11th, that's why.

The ideal "he" would not
Compliment my nose,
Then ask where it is from.
"He" would not express that
If my hair was down,
I would be "wild".
He would not
Disguize a kiss as a handshake.

And yet I find myself smiling
On the way home.
Why?

JANUARY 11th, that's why.