I don’t need a name This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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I just want all your love
I'm a cigarette smoke cloud descending from above
A cast apparition, omnipotent but lame
I stole a Bic lighter to set your leotard aflame

People call you Brit
You dropped the rug-burned knee
Your moony rain dance walk could charm a fallen draftee
A palace in LA, a moat of culottes and wit
You tried to spin a pirouette but your ballet shoes were slit

You find my scent repulsive, so you bought a smoke alarm
But I'm in the rainwater, now your onus is your harm:
Laconic acid seeping through your skin into your skull
Has your ship started sinking or should I burn through the hull?

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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