Instead of A Love Poet, I Should've Become A Whore

When I apply for a job
They never take love poet as experience
My position is like every other
but worse
I should've become
a dentist
I’m always shoving fingers into strangers’ mouths
pulling out words
fishing kisses from unflossed teeth
A maid
Dealing in dirty laundry
Sweatshop workers
I understand endless hours
there are no breaks from publishing my diary
moments shift down the assembly line
I’m sleazier than politicians
spewing rhetoric and half truths
paying off my emotions
Love poets are no better than strippers
naked for a crowd
extra personal for views
Drug dealers
trading lives for lines
Why can’t I be a used car salesman
My heart is sloppy seconds
but I sold it go another mile
A stuntman
jumping into old flames
throwing myself under buses
my voice is a professional stand-in
my heart more valuable by the break
I became a freak show
 bending over backwards 
and juggling emotional chainsaws
I was meant to be a surgeon
not the one on the operating table
love poets get no anesthesia
they auto-tune our screams
pulsate pain into music
Being a love poet only ensures is that I’ll starve.
I am starving
hungry for heartbreak
Bellowing to shatter cliches
spend this much time
Fabricating flirtation
Reality leaves your stomach empty
I must be emaciated
Because the world can see my bones
I need to saturate my silhouette with stories
Silence screams beneath my flesh
I live in the spacebar
And can never afford rent.


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