Coat hanger shoulders,
Perturbing hip bone,
My body no longer
Feels like my own.
.
I’ve always been skinny
Though never this gaunt.
I have no more pride
Or desire to flaunt.
.
But worse yet than that
Is I’ve lost my smile.
I always did laugh,
Now it’s been a while
Bikini clad, she sunbathed
In the light of the bonfire.
The much too purple
Of her beach towel
In perfect sync
With the much too green
Of the grass.
They all love me pretty quickly, the people i meet.
“It’s her eyes.” My mamma tells people. Apparently I have ‘sweet eyes’, whatever that means.
They always want to pet me and play with me and they talk to me much more than they do with Shifty- thats my sister, shes been here longer than I have.
I don’t think people love Shifty as much as they love me. They say her name and try to pet her, but when she doesn’t respond or looks at them funny they stop trying.
Only a few people really love Shifty, like my mamma and my friend Tequi’s mamma. But they don’t love her the way they love me- or Tequi.
They love Tequi and I by playing with us and cuddling us and teaching us how to be good so they won’t have to scold us so often. They give us toys and sometimes even play with those toys with us.
But with Shifty, They love her by saying sorry when they make her jump, or by leaving the couch so she can sit on it alone. They love her by letting her come to them for pets and slacking on her training.
My papa loves her too, but he’s not as good at it. He approaches Shifty too fast and scares her too often, but I think he doesn’t mean for it to happen .
And I know that Shifty loves papa too. She’s told me as much. Papa goes on longer walks and finds tastier food for us. Usually he forgets he’s a papa, but when he remembers he tries to make up for it.
Shift says mamma and papa fight sometimes. They don’t bite each other but sometimes mamma barks loudly at papa and then gets very sad while he gets very quiet- papa isn’t usually quiet. He loves to tell people things.
Shifty also says sometimes mamma leaves and she either goes with her or stays. And when this happens she never knows how long it will be before they are all back together again.
Personally, I only just found this little family and I really hope we can all stay together always. And that includes Tequi, Murphy, Panda and their mammas and papas too.
A friend of mine was sent to the guidance counselor’s office because his jokes where ‘too dark’ and ‘concerning’. I remember him and I laughed about it because we thought that whole situation was just as funny as declaring loudly that we where ‘waiting for the sweet release of death’.
Looking back now, is very possible that our laughter rang hollow. Still it sounded like music in comparison to the silence that might have occupied the space otherwise.
My father though my friends and I where bad for each other because we where encouraging each others depression. I fought him on this, but secretly feared he was right.
Then the ‘dark’ jokes went away for a while…..
Now that they’re back, and my friends are oceans away, they don’t get met with the laughter of solidarity, they don’t even get met with the concern or fathers or guidance counselors.
It’s bad when the dark ‘jokes’ get met with the explicit implication of ‘no time for this kinda thing.’
Its worse when they don’t get met at all.
I feel at odds here.
I feel like one of the trees
That’ the same size
As all those years ago,
When it was first planted.
.
The ends of my leaves
Turned brown quickly
And have stayed that way since.
But the brown decreased
With the number of leaves.
.
I feel like one of the trees
That’s holding- fighting on
Just to stay the same
When it rains
And shrink when it doesn’t.
I wish I could have loved him,
But I’m fickle.
He bleed emotion
Through too many pens.
Ink spilling on paper,
He opens up his chest,
Let’s the ocean in,
And writes a hundred words
About life and love and longing.
.
I could have let him love me
But I’m fickle
And not selfish enough
To allow myself to be loved
By someone I don’t deserve.
.
Maybe some day
I’ll pry my chest open
With a crowbar
And go for a swim.
But until then,
Fare he well.
I thought the whole thing was weird from the get go, but I was never upset about it. The fact that no one acknowledged the weirdness however….. Well I wouldn’t say I was ‘upset’ about it but it definitely didn’t help me feel comfortable. And it’s all emphasized by how completely different we are.
She thanked me once- I think it was the second time we’d met- she thanked me and asked me why I was being so nice to her. I explained that I didn’t have any reason not to be. ‘Weird’ isn’t a good enough reason to be anything less than nice. Still, I think I would have appreciated if our man in common hadn’t allowed me to become a spectacle in that moment: by myself, cornered by drunken girls who are all demanding me to ‘be meaner’ while he silently looked on with the others.
Another time he left us alone together. He asked me to hang out with them and then left me alone with her. And the fact that I wasn’t comfortable getting drunk with my man’s ex while he wasn’t there went entirely ignored.
It’s not that she makes me uncomfortable. Not at all. But the whole situation, having to be a part of each others lives while being each others opposites… well, it’s not without tension. And I guess it would be nice to have someone say ‘I know you didn’t ask for this, I know you weren’t given anything resembling a choice in the matter, so I want you to know that I appreciate how well you’re handling this and how easy you’re both making things for each other.’
I think the moment when my whole perspective on the situation changed was when we where out together and after 6 hours of being completely out of my comfort zone, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. She didn’t hesitate take my side and come to my aid. She didn’t hesitate to do the things I always hope he will do… but never does. She had my back and didn’t care that I was ‘being emotional’ or ‘making a scene’. Instead she cared about the fact that I was in destress and that our relationship was being stressed. She cared about the things I wish he would care about.
It’s possible that she want us to work out because I’m her best case scenario in a ‘new girlfriend’ and that’s okay because as far as ‘the ex’ goes she’s mine.
He drinks in knowledge,
Always thirsty for understanding.
Science videos, podcasts, books-
The topic’s not as important
As the overwhelming details.
.
I think space is cool,
But thinking about it too hard
Gives me a headache,
If not a sense of panic.
The poets know
That words can flow
When strung together well.
.
But in all your
Silent touches
I read poetry as well
Loving you means
Never really knowing
How important i am to you.
.
Loving you means
Always wondering
If i even am at all.
.
Loving you means
Begging for conversations
And settling
For three words.
.
It means storming out
And thinking
‘This time he’ll come,
.
This time is his turn
To start unraveling
All the tension and the hurt.’
.
I wonder why
I’m still disappointed
When you never do.
.
It means pleading
With a fortress to let me in,
Open the gates
And let me in.
.
And then ending
The night seated outside,
In the cold.
.
Loving you means
Writing a thousand thoughts
You’ll never read
.
And longing to read the thoughts
You’ll never write me.
.
It means wanting so much
For you to prioritize me
.
And then felling like a burden
Or a waste of time
If i manage to convince you to.
.
Loving you means
Tricking myself
Into believing
That the choice between
Happiness and love
Is a hard one.
.
It means pretending
I could ever
Not choose happiness
.
It means knowing
Deep down
That someday
Happy will win,
.
But putting it of
As long as long as possible
For the foolish notion,
That maybe
You’ll offer both.
Writing Things Better 