Thursday, December 18, 2008

december feels like summer (or: waste of breath)

not helping my mother even when she doesn't ask me
makes me feel guilty.
i sat on a chair and read a book that i've already read,
fell in love with a boy whom i already loved,
made a wish for a brother that i've already given up on.

i hope no one ever sends me a shoebox full of explanations,
even if it tells me that it's not my fault. i don't want
to end up shivering inside a rocket ship that is
forever grounded, drawn to earth by
children and backstabbers,

even if i can see the stars through the top.
where is that canvas mat?
where are those ropes?
i don't need gloves. well, i need them.
but i don't want them.

curly hair,
flannel cuffs,
halfway ice crashes wetly to the ground,
and every day i learn something
i never wanted to know before.

i hope today will not become one
of my thirteen reasons why.

2 comments:

Annie-Laure said...

i like this. it sounds like you told it to me and then i rephrased it.
that made sense...

Ianthe Wilde said...

december does feel like summer.

except, you know, for the obvious.

but that kind of useless bogged feeling. that's the same.

i like this.