I Look At My Homely Sketch. It

For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds.

Some Adults Would Rather Pretend That Bad Things Dont Exist Than To Talk About Them.

I Look At My Homely Sketch. It Doesn't Need Anything. Even Through The River In My Eyes I Can See That. It Isn't Perfect And That Makes It Just Right.

Look At The Stupid, Poor People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People, Look At Their Dead Baby. It's Death Porn For The Masses.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.