the worst poem i've ever written.
Do I know we're not right? I have four years worth of debt to prove my commitment to my craft and my commitment to the arts. I didn't just want words to be a hobby, but wanted it to consume me, take over my whole life, make my body ache with language. I had a teacher who announced it'd be ideal to fall in love or to break up with someone before writing poetry. She stood in front of the class and everyone laughed, but I wrote it down like I would get graded on it. I made it my mission to come with a HD in love and pain. The time I spend alone–when I don't have a significant other or a lover–allows me to grieve for love lost. But most weren't even 'lust', let alone love . I was reaching for inspiration. Sitting in cafes and talking and I would be staring, wondering how I could explain their freckles or their eyes and whether I could talk them into falling in love with me. Wondering if I could write my best poem yet. I stare at people and think a