tabloid depression

today i opened US Weekly
read the “25 things you didn’ t know about me column”
learned 25 things about a celebrity I didn’t give a shit about
wondered what they would write about me
 
there’s the simple things,
I can’t ride a bike
I can’t drive a car
I have a twin sister
I’m a vegetarian
 
(how do they think of 25 things without getting into the bullshit?)
 
I ate an entire watermelon last fourth of july
i am afraid to be in a room alone with you
i only own black underwear
i’m proud of my vocabulary
 
(17 more?)
 
i wonder what you say about me when i leave the room
i can’t walk by peanut butter without sticking my finger in the jar
i am constantly in love with 12 different men at one time
i like it rough sometimes
 
but,
 
look, i can’t play the drums, but I can probably talk you out of your pants
can’t namecheck the videos of 90s loud rock bands, but i have a running
knowledge of 80s sitcoms
will never be as pretty as she is, but i can make popcorn on the stove
 
(what else?)
 
my mother has more game than me
sometimes i put on lingerie just to show you what you’re missing
i have a thing for feedback
when someone says your name, i burst into flames
my mouth sometimes tastes like steak for no reason
i feel a touch of depression
i buy magazines to look for your face
i’ve written more poems about you than i have eyelashes
i can’t figure out what to say
i am tired of thinking about myself
25% of the time i wish i would disappear