C-c-c-Combo Breaker!
Morning breath is the worst.

Slug

While beeping alarms fail to rouse you
The vibrate of your phone will.

While you're too sick to go to classes
You're not sick enough to miss partying at the house.

While you sob over the treatment you recieve from boys
You do not hesitate to sleep with a taken man.

While I have to remain silent and accomodating
You will take my keys without any shame.

While you are aghast and shocked as to why your actions have finally recieved punishment
I look at you everyday and think
"I am so glad I'm not you."

I may be a judger
But I could never be as reprehensible as you.

People in Russia, Germany, Malaysia, and Brazil have viewed my blog. What???

Spider

The conversations--
all two of them--
we've had this week
are stilted
awkward
yearning.

We want to tell each other more.
We don't know how
We can’t remember.

Instead of jumping into the canyon
I’m building a wall against it.
But I’m still throwing strands of my hair
down.

I still don’t understand your motives
if you even have any.

Sylvia Plath would be so disappointed in me.

Lucky

Lucky
That the little boy
Who was unexpected
And unwanted
Is the biggest blessing.

Lucky
For the way he yells to talk to me
For seeing him run to me
For the hugs and kisses he gives without being asked.

Lucky
To love him
And be loved by him.

Lucky
To never worry when I'm not with him
But to want to see him all the time.

Lucky
To have the most precious sibling.

About the boy with dreadlocks, but to the girl with green eyeshadow

I realized last night
That I love too deeply.
For me
Love is a cliff
And I throw myself into the abyss
Without even peering over the edge.

Please come home to me.
No one understands my flaws like you do.
No one patiently untangles my words
From my tears
Like you do.

2:48 in the morning

I hate
that a one word text message from you
can immediately send me
into a tailspin.

Hey.

I was ready for move on
I was forgetting about you
I was okay never talking to you again

But that message
and my response
proves that you still have power over me

And I hate you for that.

Upon examining my fingernails

Bitten plum
Is mostly sophisticated
With a dash of
Reckless and dangerous
Which very nearly
Describes the wearer.

Did you know that I adore Sylvia Plath with all my heart?

…And because you’re eighteen, because you’re still vulnerable, because you still don’t have faith in yourself, you talk a little fliply, a little too wisely, just to cover up so you won’t be accused of sentimentality or emotionalism or feminine tactics, you cover up, so you can still laugh at yourself while there’s still time. ~Sylvia Plath

An Ode to My Pink Fuzzy Blanket

You of the pink fuzz
Thrown around my shoulders
Tossed at the bottom of my bed
Ever loyal
Ever warm
Ever pink.

You. Yeah, you.

Just when I thought you were gone
You had to go and drag me back into the
pathetic tumble
that is your life.

To you
Enough.
I don't understand the fascination.
Secretly, it makes me burn with satisfaction
that you have this obsession.
But my life was a better place
before you waltzed into it
And after I cast you out.

You have no right to pity
From me.

November

It astounds me
How excited I am
To go home and be loved by her
Again.

We make this long distance relationship work
I promise you
But it's not the same.

I only have to survive two more weeks
Get through two more weeks of school-chaos
And then I can focus on the holidays
And glorious celebration.

He made order out of disorder for me.
Isn't that sweet?

R

I hardly ever think of you anymore.
I see the pictures of your new girlfriend and smile instead of weep.
I still want you
To lust over me.

Thus the reason why I'm going to work out before Winter Break.

Dear Roommate

I am tired of...
Your sense of entitlement
Your lack of empathy
Your lifestyle (forgive me for not being politically correct)
Your voice.

I don't care if...
He isn't leaving his girlfriend (were you really that surprised?)
Your grandfather won't pay for your vacation (shouldn't you get a job and pay for school?)
Your mother was mean to you (all mothers are mean at one point or another)
You move out.

I am being...
Mean
Judgmental
Hostile

But really...
I don't care.
At all.

Just fucking give me my Rocky Horror Picture dvd back.

In case anyone was unclear

In 27 days my world will be complete again.

You may think I'm obsessing, but I know she is thinking about it just as much as I am.

Because we are one.

I guess I should try to write a happy poem for once

Let me tell you

that I have created more memories

in the past two months

than I had in the previous six.

Anticipation

Knowing the memories still to come

makes me giddy

jumpy

tense

with excitement

I have experienced quiet moments

that were poetry itself.

I was involved in loud chaotic hours

that were too busy for poetry.

The smiles have outnumbered

the tears

by far.

Rousseau

Force is a physical power.
That struck me.
Force can move both
literal and metaphorical
mountains.

Might does not make right.
But that doesn't matter as much
As who has the might.
They may not be right
But they have the control.
The world is in their tender grip.
It's perfectly fine to sit and dream and write
of right and wrong and power and oppression
But didn't you ever look up from your vellum legend
And see that it doesn't matter?

Might makes force
And force is a physical power
That loses no strength based on right or wrong.

I MISS HONDURAS

I miss the children that always made me smile

even though I couldn't understand a word they said.

I miss fea bonita

I miss Julie

And Jesus

I miss knowing my purpose

Knowing who I was

Knowing how to be happy.

The children who made me smile

never stopped smiling

even though they've seen horrors

experienced horrors

my cultured mind cannot comprehend.

I miss understanding everything

when I understood nothing at all.