young and ashamed
hi guys i’m a teenager and this is one of my first times sharing creative writing/poetry with people, so feedback is much needed/appreciated! highly recommend listening to perfect places by lorde before reading this if you’ve never heard the song :)
young and ashamed
(On Lorde’s Perfect Places)
all of us (except maybe me) grew out:
of chubby cheeks and flavored lip gloss,
the neighborhood corner store,
nights asleep
spent dreaming of futures that are
off-piste, too big for someone
our age. we have pretty
faces, so who needs more?
“trying
to be perfect is like a leprechaun trying to
find gold,” Momma always says. but
these dreams of mine are for
perfect bylines in the New York Times, the bestsellers list –
places to call my own.
what if i don’t ever reach my pot of gold?
the outcome to be expected, probably; but
fuck, i don’t have a plan b.
are my typed rainbows even real?
perfect isn’t, according to Momma, so how can my
places be? they’re just words no one has read.
anyways, i’m just a kid, what do i know
?