i do not understand
how our good days can sometimes slip into such bad
grey endings

it makes me weary
and i cannot
wait for summer's rays

sometimes i think i say i love you
because suddenly it strikes me how alone i am
and i need you to say it back to me
otherwise i cannot deal with it all

its a sudden panicky i love you
like the times when we are insecure
when you ask me if i love you
when you ask me if i trust you
when i want to ask you back

the times when i want to ask you about
the girls who got your benefits in the
grimy halls of middle school
while i was too busy braiding daisy chains
and holding any boy who liked me so tightly to
my chest
afraid that if i eased up for a second there would never be another
gripping tightly with my dirty fingernails
my unsoiled self
wishing for a second that my shadowed
curves were existent and i held some sort
of magic to the outsider
some mystical allure in my unknowingness

i lack motivation
i am sitting here
reading through other girls
words poetry painted across
their tumblr pages late at night
all the while knowing it is the wrong
thing to do

these girls with pasts riddled
in divorced parents in pills that
dropped on their tongues slipped down their throats
as easily as the syllables do on the page
girls who spent their summers sitting on
stoops writing perfect images
of j.d. salinger listening to jazz
telling lies about how they were in college
writing lies into their yellow faded notepads
and knowing all the while

my walls are not draped in writing awards
like these girls
i cannot slap scratch your face
like these girls

and i am trying to decide if thats okay

and i am trying to decide if i care

i am just realizing
how otherworldly these
halls are

how we could have slipped past
each other in the hallways
so many times

without so much as a glance
or a lingering thought

tunnel vision is a
given
blots out all other
lives

isn't it funny when
spheres collide

YOU HAVE GONE TO FETCH ME WATER (4/17/15)

You have gone to fetch me water
disappeared into the trees
armed only with an empty poland spring bottle
and a smile

I am sitting here
waiting
I will guard our stuff with my life
I called out after you
well maybe not with my life
but with strength
I amended

Today we went to the Met
We caught the 6 train
after school
and entered the gaping halls
that swallowed us whole

drawing writing in the exhibits
making a curriculum of our own
we sat in front of George Washington
and considered his sword

Later we spilt out into the streets
trickling over onto Lexington
mixing in with the Upper East Side
after school crowd
that made me wish I were prettier
more confident
that made me feel estranged

We ate
We drank
We left
with talks of capsules lingering in our mouths
some thoughts I could not swallow
(I cannot swallow pills
they feel too lumpy in my throat)

The sun behind us
we dawdled into trees
took advils (you)
dissolvables (me)
for our heavy headaches
and splayed out on the grass
whispering in each others ears

laying there
my thoughts went elsewhere
(my head still throbbed)
you examined my visage closely
offered eagerly
to forage for fluids
in fulgent foliage

i complied.
watched you as you ran off
armed myself with a pencil
and considered you

(and now) I sit here
writing
thirstily,
you
have gone to fetch
me water

when it rains, i have no time for calculus

rainy days put me in a haze

you aren't just a phase
your stares are a maze

there are so many ways:
insurmountable praise
metaphorical plays
(leave my heart where it lays
with the boy born from Mays)

when my mind is ablaze
leave my toes in blue bays
paint my hair full of rays
when we whisper it stays

watch, all softly decays
reins my head into daze

we bought two dozen roses
24 deep red flowers at our fingertips
and we felt devilishly alive
shuffling excitedly on the pavement

rushing back to school
we passed them out sporadically
to ones we owed dues
to ones we knew would appreciate
to see the flower bring light to an eye

people asked us why
we asked them why not?

we bought two dozen roses
24 deep red flowers no longer at our fingertips
though we have now gone home
three blossoms on my desk still catch my eye

1st ave and 1st street

sitting on the bench
steaming chinese food
burns the roof of your mouth

later I climb onto the monkey bars
and you catch me
as i slip through the cracks

i feel weird
i do not like it

these tiptoe
wavering emotions
teetering beneath
my balancing skin

a sheet
of paper
malleable
the light shines
through

standing at
34 st
at night
is a purely
new york
experience

(the piss
smell
the garbage
the
strangers)

praying
that the light
you see in
the distance
is in fact
a train
(and one that is in service)

so that you
can only
be one hour
late for
curfew

i'll be your friend
forever

is that comforting?

to have to lose you
and then be friendzoned
forever?

I cannot tell

writing poetry at 10:30pm on the empty R train

a man in purple
looks at his
phone
a toffee boy
black jordan
sneakers
stares
at a screen
a fedora-d
guy with
square rimmed glasses
clicks away

and I watch

this fabricated world

woven on a loom
of space
infinite and yet
the yarn
still wraps
around my
fingers

for some reason

i do not want to be here
sitting
typing to you about
religion

you are too far away from me
right now to
understand

and i am too tired

i cannot break off this conversation
it is clear it means too much to you
but the longer it goes
on
the more disconnect i feel

School of Rock

jack black

is an attack

(these kids are all so much older now

it is funny

are these universal pictures that we held on to and loved

their home videos?

do they cringe at their younger selves?)

"baby we were making straight As

but we were stuck in the dumb days

don't take much time to realize your lies

feel like i've been hypnotized...

and if you wanna be a teacher's pet

baby you just better forget

rock got no reason

rock got no rhyme

you better get me to school on time"

4315

we are lying here
and i cannot understand
how this can be

how unbelievably
free
i feel
under these
covers

my heartbeat
reverberates through
my body

you breathe

and i know we are both
trying to understand
how something so simple
can seem so
vast

when i am sad
i pull out my guitar
and sit on my bed
and strum and pick

isn't it funny that something
i can be so subpar at
can give me such joy?

i think it weaseled its way
in because of that
i had never learnt these chords
i was not expected to be good
guitar is not my main instrument

but oh
how it makes
me sigh

i hate that i care so much but i do
how the fuck
can this all boil down to four digits
i do not understand

why am i crying
i do not understand

how
i do not understand

i hate
i hate
i hate



perceptions of myself make me
cringe
why do i need to perfect
why do i care
so
much
why
why
why
why
why
why

this doesn't matter
but it does