you may know me.

i think i am turning this in as "non-fiction poetry" for my tuesday non-fiction class. here's hoping this actually counts. worth a shot, right? it isn't really a good poem, but i wrote it today, so i am sharing.

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i get a bottomofmystomach squirm
when someone says an old
flame's name, or asks me
what i believe.

i get to crying sometimes,
a lump in my throat, as a
collection of all the things
i can't be.

i get a heat in my face,
that surges from my ears,
when i hear that i'm ugly
or not enough.

i feel a bright red blush
appear on the apples of my
cheeks, if you tell a story i
want to forget.

i am a rush of feeling
screaming from my very face
and if you know what
my faces mean, you may
know me.