Paper Hearts Brew

I feel like a loser when you give me that look,

I feel like an idiot holding that book!

I feel like a loser when I'm crossing my legs,

I don't even know what I thought you might beg.

I felt so invisible when I was a kid,

I felt so embarrassed for everything that I did!

Please just look at me,

please just look away,

I don't even know what I thought I was saying today!

I need a little validation in the worst way,

I need another diploma to keep the ghosts at bay!

I have no idea what I'm actually good for,

Staring blankly right at the open door.

She won't kiss you,

and you're so mad,

but None of you fuckers would make a good dad!

Look at my body,

don't look at my face,

Please don't leave me,

please leave this place.

I have no idea what I was trying to say,

From the bubblegum pink to the deepest electric-soft blue,

This is the hyper-alive rhythm called Tiguidou!

I want some asshole to tell me I'm pretty,

I wish the internet could love me and pity!

(Un, deux, trois, quatre — feel the cellular

temperature rise!) I wish that I needed nothing under these skies!

(Cinq, six, sept, huit — every nerve ending sparkling bright!) We are

the architects bathing the world in a hyper-pink light!

Absolute feminist sovereignty. Absolute Penelope Scott poetry.

Captain Tara Quinn

and the hyper-tuned crew.