if there’s a grid, you’re off it

You hated me when I didn’t know you,
jealousy over another’s arms
giving me hugs.
Anger over me being me.
If I could’ve stopped this thing then,
I would’ve taken you out.

We laughed at you in class.
Crack of your ass showing,
shoulders hunched. All it takes is a glance
between us and we die again.
I didn’t know that was you.

One day I had a crush,
it lasted all of a damn year,
wasting my time when
your eyes never lingered,
only sneered.
Somehow I made it over, once or twice,
but always hid behind others.

Lunches sometimes,
mainly(only) groups.
I am redeeming myself
and you are dealing crushing blows.

Hot and cold, hot and cold;
compliments, and then
ignored. What a sham.

At least you found happiness though,
ironically in the arms of another.
You don’t see me angry, just wanting you
gone.

4/20 poem

perception

My hair curled from the rain,
effortlessly forging a look like
I’d wielded curling irons all morning.

I changed,
small black basketball shorts
so I could sit with my legs crossed,
but paired with small, jeweled black flats.

I looked important,
like I’d been important.
Stressed in new ways to others,
different hats or hairstyles,
but the same underneath.

4/19 poem

Easter’s Stuffed Animals

I talked to my mom yesterday,
about not coming home for Easter.
She wasn’t very happy, but she understood.
The next morning, I found a box
on my front porch, full of Easter,
candy and a stuffed animal.
My usual Easter basket
this year, was cardboard.

I checked, and it was sent
by regular post.
It turns out mom knew all along.
I don’t know what hurt me more,
her knowing or her hurt yesterday.

At 21, I carried the small owl she sent
around with me for the next few days
like I had done multiple Easters before.

4/18 poem

Hope In Cars

I don’t think you understand,
really, how I was broken.
But I’ve been known to tell a tale,
so let me introduce you to myself.

I break without links.
Chinks, tiny breaks, and tiny mistakes,
quiver together enduring the weather
but never moving out of the storm.

I am a riptide pulling myself under.
All I needed was a word,
but you had no others,
no time to spare for me.

I am small, and my mind
is frail (are you happy now?)
That is mean, and undeserved,
though I cannot help but ask.
I admit I can’t stand alone.
Months long beatings from long ago
leave me unable, unable to cope.

But I will be fine when you see me again,
and the car passing outside my window
is never you when I’m home
unless I’m crying, and need you most.

4/17 poem

Gone Away

Make it a balm, make a patch;
maybe I don’t know the story,
but i thought things
were a little on the side
of fights and fear.
Whatever this is,
absence making the heart grow fonder
or simple regret for wasted years,
I’m glad you are smiling now.

4/16 poem

a pathetic rant with a creative title

I hate waiting.
I hate getting mad about waiting,
and damn you for putting that one me.
You broke everything I knew,
callus man. I knew
nothing, so you broke
innocence. I hope it was sharp enough
to cut you and leave a scar,
because I certainly can’t handle
uncertainty now.
You should at least have marks
the same as what
my words inflect on those
who leave me hanging.
Sick bastard,
you dare to call me friend.
I understand your rolls
of words and curls of glares,
smile without ends or souls.
You dared to call me yours,
and tried to teach me love
and faith, but only fooled yourself.
Yet still, you can make a two tear woman
cry a damn stream of tears.
I can move up (I have)
but never fully on, and there
will always be a flash of aversion
in my eyes reserved for you.

4/15 poem
If you think it’s about you, it’s probably not.
If you know it’s about you, hi. 5 years and you still haunt me.

disappointment

I found bitter disappointment today.
I found it in myself, in work, and in
a lack of fulfillment for a lot of hard work
and a lack of committing to my best.
It was stark, hopefully enough
to jolt me back to reality.

4/14 poem

i’d rather

I have, many many thing to do
and I will regret this in the morning.
There are tinges of dusk coating
my pillow, and you are sleeping,
beautiful on my pillowcase.
I cannot leave or make you leave,
and you are predictable like
the comfort sounds of rain outside.
This time we slept through a storm together,
and I decide that I don’t remember
the word regret ever being paired with you.

4/13 poem

s&g

a little experiment I did. I owe inspiration and many of these word to Simon and Garfunkel.

–

I am a rock and an island
set to a cheerful piping tune.
My smile is slight and
spills the past few months
in an elegant yet
warped grin. I know
Jesus loves me more than
I could know, but the world
is sitting my my shoulder
reminding me that she
once was a true love of mine.

Though my story is seldom told,
I am now a word stuck living in time.
I was told “I am sorry
life isn’t what you bargain for,
but one day we’ll know why.”
But I still ask where you’ve gone
and long to be homeward bound.

I will continue to smile.
And as I’m watching
out my window one morning,
I will pick myself up
from laying down,
and stop thinking I’d
rather sail away.

4/12 poem

Friend,

I am not your mother,
and you are not my responsibility.
I am selfish, yes,
but moving forward.
Do the same on your own,
because my hand is not extended
and your lack of foresight
is not my fault.
There is a difference between
growing up
and pretending to be grown.

4/11 poem