I Like Noodles.

I want a red dress.

But only if it's from D.I. and only if I myself ripped it off the back of a homeless woman.
Or I knew somebody that did.

I was in love with this boy but he said he couldn't love me back because my sweater wasn't ugly enough. I saw a girl wearing a beaver-skinned bag, so the next day I wore a baby kitten.

Nobody talked to me that day.

Mustaches are on the rage this year, so I wore a fake one to school. All the guys laughed at me and all the girls thought me weird. All of you mumbled mean words about me, saying I"m trying to hard to stand out.

Because I probably am.

Stand out so I can fit in better. So I can sit with you guys at lunch and talk about hiking and talk about concerts and talk about how good we look and talk about poetry and talk about mustaches and talk about sex.

But I think I'm done.

This sweater is to itchy and these winged shoes are too tight.
This red lipstick stains my teeth and these feathered earrings get stuck in my hair.

I think I'm done fitting in.
I'm done standing out.
I'm just done.

I'll just be me and eat some cake and I'll wear my damn kitten if I want to.
And that boy doesn't have to love me if he doesn't want to.
He can keep my ugly clothes and give them to a girl who can play the ukulele better than me.


But that bitch don't have cake.


Happy Sunday.