I can't live without some weirdos to love

as much as i hate to

admit it, i need you.

at least, to



me of my occasional but

only figurative madness.


me i am capable of all

things, am worthy of so much more

than what my demons degrade me

to some nights.


me to compliment a stranger's

blue hair; smile when boys hold each

other’s hands; take time to stare at

the sky every midnight until

stars drip off of my eyelashes

like dew.


me when my sleeves are too long for

broiling hot August days, try

to make me feel like less of a

burden, and please be broken like



i hate myself for sinking a

little farther inside myself

while trying to prove a point. know

when i muster up the courage

to ask for advice, yes i am

listening, yes even as i

fiddle with my hands and stare at

my phone.

on nights

you feel just as insecure as I,

even more or even less, ask

me to hear you. if my response

isn’t ground-breaking i’m sorry,

but no matter what i’ll love you

as much as i’m



no, i don’t

need to be popular,

but a good

handful of you to meet

these needs would

be enough to keep blood


through my veins, and euphoria


my brain, and purpose


every fraction of my being.


i’ll love

you so much.

i won’t marry

you every time

to prove it, but i’ll be

a phone call when your ex tears

you apart and a splendid 3

a.m. adventure to McDonald’s.


all i ask

is that you


This poem is about: 
My family


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