At 2 a.m. I trolled the Internet in search of something to put me to sleep. Instead, I stumbled upon “Mrs. Hendrix,” a poem only two minutes and 29 seconds long that forced me to relive the past five years of my lifeI’ve always admired spoken-word artists. The thought of standing before a crowd of strangers and inviting them into your living room terrifies me. But that night I took a seat beside a girl named Lindsay Young and let her tell me how my life as a struggling music student and that of million-dollar, dirty-Sprite-drinking Future Hendrix were sadly not that different.
Like what you're reading?
Get more in your inbox.
“People call them beautiful before they call me damaged.”'