i preface this poem with something like this:
“have you ever dated someone and had ridiculous amounts of fun together and thought no one could have as much fun as you do, and everything is spontaneous, and you love them intensely because you do all this crazy shit together, just like the movies, and then you realize well, they’re just plain crazy?”
by then i usually get a roar of people applauding and agreeing because they’ve been where i’ve been, too. then i say “this is for the sociopaths.” and then the poem starts.
i’m half uncomfortable posting this poem here, because its possible that the subject, or even some of the names mentioned will listen and react. but ultimately - my art isn’t to be censored - and all of this is truth. if the muses take issue with it, they take issue with honesty and that is not a tornado i am unequipped to wrestle.
and also - this tumblr could USE some controversy. i wish this blog was half as shit-stirring as my high school livejournal. then i wrote about how the girls who frequented the tanning salons reminded me of oompa loompas and the saffron flag display in central park. one night i posted before the kickline competition that i hoped it would snow and that the competition would be cancelled (see, i loved to dance but hated making the art competitive. i suppose it’s ironic that i now do slam.) i was hated because i was truthful and different and had courage to disagree. those are three things i wouldn’t trade for all the kitties in the world.
enjoy!
basically, megan channeled a lot of my experiences in combination of her own to create a masterpiece. woman of the year, fo sho.
