I lied to you

when I told you that being pretty

was something that mattered

and for that, I’m sorry.


I lied still when I told you

being beautiful made you worthy

of something other than

simply, this life.


And I lied again

when I told you being symmetrical

was something special, rather than

arbitrary anchors,

always changing ports.




Now I want to tell you;

loathe cilantro, love habanero,

be afraid of tortoiseshell cats,

watch Indiana Jones 29 times,

wake up early and go running,

read books about horrible murders,

cook brownies once a week.


Do all the things

that make you you,

’cause no one cares that

you’re pretty, baby

there’s a million pretty girls

but only one like you.