{"id":1290,"date":"2017-11-02T11:30:59","date_gmt":"2017-11-02T16:30:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/?p=1290"},"modified":"2017-11-02T11:30:59","modified_gmt":"2017-11-02T16:30:59","slug":"pretty-poetry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2017\/11\/02\/pretty-poetry\/","title":{"rendered":"Pretty Poetry"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I&#8217;m so tired of writing pretty poetry, even though it flows naturally from me, words dancing from my fingertips to the page&#8230; But words don&#8217;t dance.\u00a0 And I&#8217;m tired of pretending that they do.<\/p>\n<p>Pretty doesn&#8217;t mean anything.\u00a0 Pretty is the bow that you put in your hair, a small nothing of decoration.\u00a0 And pretty words are the things people put on Instagram pages so that others think that they&#8217;re deep.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t want my words to be pretty; I want them to mean something.\u00a0 I want them to punch you in the stomach and give you cold sweats in the morning as they haunt you.\u00a0 I want them to give you nightmares like they do me.\u00a0 I, myself, don&#8217;t want to be pretty;\u00a0 I want to mean something.<\/p>\n<p>And when I die, I want to be remembered for something other than being pretty or having pretty words.\u00a0 I want to be ugly in the casket, not dressed up even a bit.\u00a0 I want to be decaying and rotting, and have them look upon me.\u00a0 They&#8217;ll call it an ugly sight.\u00a0 Maybe I&#8217;ll give them a smile.<\/p>\n<p>Actually, I don&#8217;t know what I want.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t know what I&#8217;m doing.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t know who I am.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t know anything, except that I&#8217;m scared.<\/p>\n<p>I can&#8217;t particularly name anything that I&#8217;m scared of.\u00a0 I just know that I do daring things, and it doesn&#8217;t faze me, but somehow I&#8217;m shivering in fear all of the time.<\/p>\n<p>I don&#8217;t know what I want.\u00a0 Actually, I want to be alone for a month.\u00a0 I want to wander into nothing towns with a bunch of nobodies.\u00a0 Then I wanna go to the landmarks, and even though most call them booming cities, I&#8217;ll think of them the same as the nothing towns.\u00a0 I want to sleep for eight days of that, a mini-coma.<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;m tired of this place.\u00a0 I want to leave.\u00a0 And that includes Diamondhead and Brookhaven, two compound word nightmares.<\/p>\n<p>I feel as if perhaps, even though I&#8217;ve spent my entire life trying to outrun it, my only home is mediocrity, for that is where I rest my head every night.<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;m tired, and I&#8217;m apathetic, and I&#8217;m tired, and I&#8217;m angry, and I&#8217;m scared, and I&#8217;m so scared.\u00a0 That&#8217;s it.\u00a0 There&#8217;s no real pretty way to put it.\u00a0 I&#8217;m just angry and scared.\u00a0 And I don&#8217;t have to explain myself to you.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I&#8217;m so tired of writing pretty poetry, even though it flows naturally from me, words dancing from my fingertips to the page&#8230; But words don&#8217;t dance.\u00a0 And I&#8217;m tired of pretending that they do. Pretty doesn&#8217;t mean anything.\u00a0 Pretty is the bow that you put in your hair, a small nothing of decoration.\u00a0 And pretty &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2017\/11\/02\/pretty-poetry\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Pretty Poetry&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1290"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/28"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1290"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1290\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1460,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1290\/revisions\/1460"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1290"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1290"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1290"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}