TV Trays

You know what?
I don't know.

I don't know,
and I'm not even
going to try and figure out.

I'm just going to go on 
living my life,
or trying really damn hard to.
Alright?
Sometimes things
get broken,
and you know,
I'm not sure this will glue back together.

When you drop a coffee mug,
it shatters into so many pieces
you'll never get it back together.

This week hasn't been all that good.

I spent Monday night nearly
comatose,
crying on my sofa
like I used to do a lot.
Wearing my robe I wear when I'm sad
or cold.
Because I hate myself, usually.
And because I felt so ugly
and he was there and 
and yeah, I was not in a good place.

And my family has been upset with my decision
about college, and they say mean things to me
and I regret everything. 

People have been rude. 
People kinda suck.

And I dreamt about you 
and your stupid girlfriend,
again.
As usual.
You ignore me or yell at me in my dreams.

Real humdinger of a week.

The Everlasting Itch for Things Remote

Sometimes I get confused about how I feel,
and then I listen to music and realize
that whatever I pick reflects my
mood perfectly
and then I understand. 

So I'm listening to guitar music,
only instrumental
and only a guitar or two,
and it's really lovely
and kind of somber,
and kind of really good sleepy music.

I'm just really tired.

And I feel a little weird
after giving up all of my authority 
roles in D-Town today, because it was 
driving me crazy.
I felt horrible, and I get mean
when put in those situations.

So today I quietly and politely said
I was resigning from my duties.
There was a moment of silence
and a look like "Oh shit, really?"
And then it was ok and it was decided
and explained.

Things felt a little better,
still pretty weird.
But now I think they are ok.

I feel better about this.

But weird overall.

Traveling Made-Up Continents

When you tease me,
and we joke.
When you do your little laugh
(the one that is quieter, 
and very sweet)
as you laugh at me for
my silliness.

When you and I are alone,
when we are working.
As we cut the giant paper 
with only our hands,
taking turns,
as it is a two-person job.
When I earn my "paper cutting badge"
and you take your turn and I make fun
of you for ripping the paper all jagged.

When we are just chatting,
and collaborating.
When we are utter equals
in all aspects of our lives.

I am happy then.

And I cannot, cannot help
but wonder,
is there something behind this?

Because your smile is so sweet,
and your laugh so sincere.
You are so nice to me,
and we can be funny together.

Is there something here,
or am I crazy?
Because when you look at me
like you do,
I just want to ask,
"could we make it?"
I just want to hug you real tight.
And let you know,
I love you, the most.
And I want to know.

Because in cutting the purple paper roll
in the half-light with just you,
and when I am being my paranoid self
and you just laugh lightly,
god, I am just taken aback 
in such a good way.
I just wanted to keep looking at you,
because you were looking at me,
and I couldn't.

Why is life like this?
I'm not quite sure I'll ever decode
such a complex mystery.

A Garden and a Library

When you have a dream
about trying to kill yourself.

That's what's scary,
the residual aftershocks.
It's like radiation poisoning,
it's there,
and doesn't go away.

When you have a dream
about lethal injections.

But then you dream
that you stop.

It's weird, waking up
with a feeling like
you did something bad.
And then you remember and get scared.

New York State of Mind

Hello,
I am home from the center of the universe.
The metropolis.

I am 'home',
but I feel more at home
in the city,
safe and singular
and home.

Don't get me wrong,
I love my house and my family,
but I soul just rested easier
in the city.

And now I'm at a loss.
There is too much space
and not enough stuff.

There are no trains to ride
to put me to sleep.
No people to watch,
no pigeons to follow.

No great green parks
to sit and drink tea in.
No pleasant strangers.

I know what I'm doing now.

I know where I'll be.

And I can see myself very easily
in that place.

And I miss it,
really.
I am back for only a few hours
but I am already missing it.

I am envisioning a future
of a sunny apartment
above a little grocery
with a windowbox for flowers.

I am envisioning subway rides.
Alone.
Or with him.

I am imagining nights out in college.
The neon and crooked sidewalks.

I want to live in the heart of the world,
because I will love and be loved there.

Here,
in some years,
I will leave my front window open in the brisk night,
my bed dressed in white linens, as the trees rustle in the breeze,
dogs are walked below, and the cars shuffle by.
Where there are always lights on, but I can still see the moon.
And he will be brushing his teeth in the tiny bathroom, 
and I will be in a thin robe,
waiting to go to bed.

Here,
is my life as
I want it.

Magnificat Animus Mea

Gettin' ready for a little vacation
to the Big Apple,
and some much needed time away.

Much needed new surroundings,
and some nice colleges. 

This will be good for me.
This will be good.

Don't Speak

It's annoying when my body image bother me so much.
There are so many other, more important things
I could worry about or fret over
than how I look.

So when I tried on my homecoming dress
to show my visiting grandparents,
it was one of those horrible
moments, because
it wouldn't zip.
Five minutes of tugging and coaxing 
and finally it zipped,
but it was...
snug.
I couldn't really sit down or breathe.

So immediately I google 
crash diets, ways to lose
water weight, and no-carb diets.
Just look at how healthy I am...

Why do I care so much?
Is it so important to lose 
weight? It's not healthy to
be obsessed with an ideal
I can't achieve.
I don't like my body, ok?

I never have.
I'd like to, but I can't bring myself
to do it.
I am a victim of the media
and celebrities and those skin-and-bone
models. I am a victim of the looks of guys
who find me unattractive.

Sorry to victimize myself,
but it's been ridiculous lately.
I always slightly obsess when I gain a little,
but this is insane.

I worked out for an hour and went to the sauna Monday,
after eating only 1 carb that day.
And on Tuesday and Wednesday- one carb.

I haven't had caffeine or bread
and I've been hungry,
but I'm still so unhappy.
Because there's no change.
Nothing at all.
And it scared me
when I was like "I'm hungry."
and my mom goes, "well you can't starve yourself."

Why do I have zero metabolism?
Why can't I get rid of my pudge?

And the bigger question-
why can't I just love myself?

I hate looking in full-length mirrors,
and I hate putting on my ever-shrinking jeans
in the morning.

I can't get the idea of 'pretty' out of me.
I can't see myself as pretty.
It's not happening.

Why?

Overexposed

Common Misconceptions and How I Started Listening to Music

On the latter,
I have realized I did not begin my music listening
with children's songs really,
what I listened to as a child:
-The Violent Femmes
-Red Hot Chili Peppers
-Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
-No Doubt
-Charlotte Church

This may explain a lot about me.
Because generally kindergartners
don't want to take swing-revival CDs
for share day. 

And generally you don't sit in
the backseat of a white Bonneville
at the age of five singing No Doubt
with your mama.

Oddly I still remember most of the
words to all the weird songs of my little youth.

I was not really aware that there was children's music
until my brother was born.
We made him CDs of fun kid music
and the Bear in the Big Blue House soundtrack.

Now he's ten and listens to 
RHCP and Matt and Kim
and a little Rage Against the Machine
(not my doing, blame my dad and 
Iron Man, ok?).

The sheer amount of loud
quirky and sometimes angry
music we listen to as children
may say something about the world.
I don't know, but maybe.

Commonly,
people think that because you
take AP classes that you are genius.
This is not always true.
So when I cannot help you with your
physics problems, don't be alarmed,
I am generally speaking, a fraud
in the school-smarts department.

Fake it 'til you make it, right?

I do not like being an afterthought.

What I do like is sleeping in a little
on a Friday, waking up to a nice breeze
and birds,

feeling human again as I go off to visit
college, and sit in a tiny class
with sunny windows and friendly
people, and an asian professor with 
a thick Kentucky accent,

taking notes and feeling
the jolt of poetry in your blood
because it's been a little absent
lately,

eating lunch with my dad for two days
and spending time with him.

I don't like the coming cold
in my bones that makes the extra
blankets creep onto my bed,
the socks thick on my feet.

I don't like feeling lonely.

I do like driving around 
with BigThatFieldMouse
observing things
and being funny
and driving over that really
fun lump in the road.

I do not like here,
I do not like now,
and I am waiting a little
to take a new path
in my little life.

And I am still sad and 
confused in my doe-eyed,
sarcastic and insulting way
towards a boy who
has somebody else.

Soon, soon,
my brain coos to my heart,
soon soon
we can leave.