I think of nights spent wandering around the woods and I find myself splattered
with a just-can’t-help-it smile,
a smile that I clean up with lacey hankies and load into a saw-ed off shotgun,
waiting till my prey is right between the crosshairs and
BAM smacking smiles right back onto the faces of cow-eyed pedestrians.

I weave compliments like friendship bracelets just because I can,
I spend my midnights meandering between pain and bliss,
a calloused tengo established after I learned the term “frienemies”
and longed to stop falling in love with everyone I meet
and scraped bubble-gum insults out of my hair with peanutbutter
and flung ugly green apples at girls that I was told are prettier than me,
and became a social sponge instead of butterfly.

I weave compliments like friendship bracelets just because I can,
mixing the contrasting colors of frayed yarns to help pick up a fallen stanger
so that they might think twice before they
spit bubble-gum insults
or fling jealousy like ugly green apples
or lock themselves inside their own head
before they get too comfortable inside a cocoon
and forget that they’re butterflies
that I fall in love with everyday,
and use lacey hankies
to make their days brighter
just because I can.