Sunday, June 30, 2013

Saturday Morning

I’m looking for something that won’t unravel
like a sweater when I hold it.  I’ve tried the
usual, and only end up with wince-worthy
shadows of memories the next morning.

When I go to the beach, the rainstorms
felt like pinpricks on my skin.  Even in shadow,
SPF is a useless shield for my burning skin.
But I live where the sun knows no compassion.

I thought I would have more understood.
but I fill my apartment with skeletons,
motivation, and the memories of
almost, bloodshot eyes, and hangovers.

Don’t move too quickly when
you stand next to me.  My flinching
can only be explained with stories
that nobody has time to hear.

Life is less the graceful surrender
I assumed. Growing roots down
 to the floor, looking for a foundation
 that won’t crack without warning.

Please, don’t tell me compliments
or fill the room with silence.  I’d
rather not hear myself think today,
or find myself in tomorrow’s texts.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Yesterday, I was all fidget and re-check:
the stove, my lipgloss, perpetual pieces
of cinnamon gum.  check, recheck, triple
check reflection in the mirror, the cellphone,
the windows of tilted buildings.
Sheepishly meeting the eyes
of similar rituals for passerbys.
Neither admitting that this inordinate
fascination of appearance, this
illusion of control is about seeing
only my face in a mirror.  Erase the
shadows of you like an iron on
wrinkled linen.  An ordinary panic
from an ordinary breakup.  It’s only
unusual after the eighth grade.
I’ve finally begun to find a new narrative.
To smirk, instead of melting.  To stop
analyzing your statuses for hidden meanings
and finally hide your strategically
manipulative musings…
I take back my fortune cookie futures,
my worst knock knock jokes, and
all my secrets shared over melting
Italian ice.  Find someone else and
start your routine over again.

It's more effective on a younger audience.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The Bed Song

I'm not sure what it is about Amanda Palmer, but she always succeeds at making me cry...
The Dresden Dolls pretty much got me through undergrad, but her music
continues to be meaningful to me.