Motherfucking Monster

a simple look.
I feel it on me like a pair of jeans 
transformative even in botched dressing room 
lighting. 
I want to share all of me.
Give it out like confetti at Macy’s thanksgiving day 
parade. 
Movie star handsome, 
is there a bucket somewhere close by?
His words mean more than I thought 
any paper fortune would have.
If he doesn’t touch me soon 
I will certainly explode into a 
million bits.
This is cheesy.
He hates cheese.
Cheese slices on green apples, please.
Faux French and proud of it.
If the world stops I’ll resume the globe
with petulant whining and on demand demands.
He’s stupid.
He’s everything.
Just a little girl who misses her dad.
Fuck no, I’m the motherfucking monster.