my pictures

I wake up

I dress up

As if I knew what I were doing but I don't. At all.

and my pictures show that.

My socks never match and my pants never fit right

and my hair is either too flat

or too

curly but I have my grades and my brain except

I don't.

 

my numbers arent high enough for me to be blech

and ive never stayed up until two in the morning in books

and im not even in the top percent.

two people

out of two hundred in a small

town and i couldnt even

get that.

 

my pictures show. my pictures that are never

on the wall of a classroom or in a school newspaper and I

never did something brilliant.

 

at least not in my pictures.

 

usually im never in them.

a row of girls and boys in fine dresses and shirts

and i was in the bathroom when the shot was taken.

just outside.

 

 

but i leave them

for my pictures

for a little square in a light

painting. that's it. it was all a

painting with pixels and with silver particles and paper that changes and

burns brown.

i feel the image and i know where it wants to

go and i

listen to it.

 

in my pictures, i am not in

the bathroom at the

wrong time on the

wrong day.

 

I make them.

 

I run with them.

 

I own them.

 

the World of photo chemicals that smell like cat urine and light meters and noisey shadows.

 

It's mine.

 

I don't believe in beauty. I believe in tricks of the light and positioning and bw v color fstop 1/60 shutter holga on 12 with a fisheye some Rembrandt with a diffused fill lightset the camera timer check speed film speed hours and hours gone by Photoshop and Instagram and color film pentax kx bleach toned hand colored with silver pencil oil painted pink line line it's all about the line and the shadow the shadow and the color don't forget about the color never forget about the color.

 

my World is Light. my Language is Light. between imperfect skin and hair and height and hips and chest beauty doesn't exist. it's a myth and a trick of the light and because the light is my world so is thus beauty my world.

 

In my pictures.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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