Saturday, June 26, 2010

to the person who bought me a thong

Thank you.

Although I do not know what to do with it,
I had been wanting a gift.

You see, Daniel promises
he bought me something,
and although I can't find
it he insists it's hidden
somewhere in the rubble of my
crumbled heart.

Underneath my sweaty sheets where
I toss and turn in the summer heat
and my mattress that has yet to see action,
are the remnants of hope
tossed aside like a pair of old gym shoes.

Filed between my chemistry notes
and Spanish folder is my joy,
neatly stored for future use
but gathering dust as we speak.

Beside my Moleskines and tubes
of watercolors are brightly colored
pastels of peace of mind, waiting
to be rubbed and smeared
on the blank sheets of
my future, their tips still whole,

And there, encrypted and saved
in a secret file on my C drive
are my dreams, waiting to be unlocked.

You know,
I don't care that he has lied to me.
You see, I searched my room.
I found no iPod or fancy hat,
but I did find a map
marked with Xs on all of my treasures.

I think I'll find them soon.
I think I'll use them too.

a movement to normalcy

My greatest fears:
and feeling weird.

Last night, I faced both.

We went to the bridge.
Blue candy mixed with Mountain Dew
made the lights magical.
My friends made them real.

I almost didn't go.
I left my room to find them
gone, but my fears were
unwarranted. "We never
left you, and we aren't going to.
Now, come back here; we miss you."

And so I went,
to hop a fence and sit and watch
bright lights reflect on moving water.

We talked of home and crushes,
embarrassments and favorite music.
We laughed and listened,
stayed silent and felt the wind on our skin.

You know, I'm not normal,
but that's okay.

Daniel says to ride the weird.
I'm interesting and exciting,
and that's ridiculously good.

I'm interesting and exciting...
the thought of it is pleasing.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Life Lesson

I'm needy.
Like a cat, I howl
until you pay me attention,
and then I bite when I'm done.

Ken's gone.
He's leaving forever
and I'm not sure he'll say goodbye.

Daniel's busy.
He needs to talk
to more important people
of more important matters.

Life lesson:
you don't matter.
You're an
and no one wants you.

But, you're their amigo,
which means you pretend
until pretending isn't enough
and something has to end.