Crash

I wake up
Again and cover my eyes
Searching and pleading
With the night to deliver me
From the hellish space from
Which I awoke.

I killed you.
Every night, again and
Again I kill you and can't stop
You from dying.
Blood,
Your blood that I shed
Blood that marks my door;
Not spared but condemned,
Oh please let me wake.

I sit down, I close the door
THUD
I start the engine
GROWL
I've just left you laughing
Oh what a sweet time we've had,
And now I'm leaving.
I switch into DRIVE
But you step in front of me,
Beg me not to go.

I'm powerless, the car leaps
And you're down and dead
And it's my fault, MY fault
And I scream
And I cry
And you are still
And I wake up
Again.

Search

Ask anyone,
I lose things
Almost constantly, or
I put it down
For a second and it
Somehow vanishes into thin air, so
Next time I'll write myself a little note
And maybe I won't forget to take
My backpack with me to school or I'll
Actually recall that I'm supposed to go
To work today. Yes! I'll just scribble something down
In my destined-to-be-a-doctor penmanship and THEN
FINALLY I'll actually remember to.......
oh DRAT I've lost my pen.

Modern (and Me)

Hi.
My name's Sarah.
I'm seventeen years old,
I don't have a boyfriend,
And I don't want one.

I watch one TV show,
I listen to Elvis, Johnny Cash,
The Doors, The Carpenters,
The Turtles, The Beatles,
And Ray Charles, and I enjoy
Spending time with my parents.

The best Christmas present I
Ever got was a record player,
And I know how to play 45s.
I'd rather read a good book
Than go to prom, and my car
Is a year older than I am.

I'm not afraid to go out
Without makeup, and I
Still feel cool singing in
The car with my mom.

I'd rather go to Branson
Than spend a week in LA,
And most of my closest friends
Were old enough to remember
When JFK was shot.

There's your average, run-of-the-mill
Teenager, the girls who listen to everybody
Else's music, and wears everybody else's
Clothes,
And then there's me.
I may not know how to use an iPhone,
But I'm in pretty good company there.

Talking Pictures

It’s where you greeted me
Jumping up and down
Waving your arms and laughing
Like a child.

 It’s where you insisted I sit

Right across from you
“Where we can talk”,
About Elvis, first cars, and
Mickey Mouse.

 It’s where you talked baseball

Like it was physical poetry, scrunching up
Your funny nose and swinging an invisible bat,
The bill of your Astros cap almost touching
My forehead.

 It’s where you insisted it was 1972, not ’74,

And where you laughed when you proved me wrong.
It was there, too, that your dad insisted Gladys gave
Elvis that blue velvet shirt,
And we proved it was Natalie.

 It was there you stole a bite of catfish, and spat

A mouthful of watermelon seeds, and
Blew bubbles in your Diet Coke.

 You almost spilled your ice cream

Down my back, and ate four plates of food,
And kicked me with your beaten-up boots,
And nodded appreciatively when I told you
My favorite year was 1976.

 It was there you whispered “Love you”

In my ear as we were leaving, and gave
My arm a squeeze as we went our separate ways.

 And it’s there now

That shards of glass are spewed,
That mounds of concrete lay cold,
That carpet is littered with bits of drywall
And leaves and twigs and dirt.

Mother Nature took my memory,
Swept it up, and left it
Somewhere else.

 I’ll never know what happened

To that giant violin.

Lessons

"Lesson learned, now it's history"
I can't-- wait, scratch that, won't--
Be what everyone else says I should be,
And there's plenty of people
Who love me for that.

Breaking away from a poisonous friendship
Saying "No, no, NO!" 'til it finally stuck
And I could let the chains that once felt like
Comforting arms
Drop away
And hit the ground
When I'm already miles down the road.

Learning the truth behind the "anyone can join"
When really you have to be the one on the floor,
The one with sore lips from kissing butt,
The one who can't imagine life
Without the woman who can't even see
How she drove me away.

I learned that too much of everything
Can lead to a day in a plastic hell
With blue dye in your head and a needle
In your arm and a prayer that it's not what
You think.

I learned that the people who love you
Are the ones who accept your hardheadedness,
Your quirks, your feelings, and your needs,
The ones who will smile and call you beautiful
When you're standing there with makeup on your chin
And snot running down from your nose.

They're the ones who come running
When you call, the ones who are happy
Simply because you are happy,
And laugh everytime you blush
At an inside joke about Hawaiian pizza.

Lesson learned, thanks a bunch,
Now let's get started on now.

Rage, Rage

I'm tired, ok?
I'm absolutely sick.
I'm tired of stupid people
Smiling with teeth that
Tear you apart while you
Pretend not to notice.

I'm tired of feeling too much,
Of caring when no one else does,
Feeling a chill in every inch of my body
When Bin Laden dies on the big screen,
When a life is taken and everyone else cheers
As the night-vision green of the camera shows us
His foot twitching, then growing still.

I'm tired of feeling like I don't belong
Of being the only one who doesn't get caught
Texting in class, saying nasty things on Facebook,
Or leaving sappy sticky messages on my boyfriend's Wall.

I'm sick of loving so hard that it hurts,
Of watching romance movies and feeling like
Someone took a giant ladle and scooped out all
My insides, and spending nights wishing I could
Hug him a little tighter, hold his hand a little longer,
And replace her in that happy family photo.

I'm tired of walking in a room and standing there
Pretending not to care while she talks to my friends,
Our friends, and feeling the triumph I imagine festering
In her darkest heart because she knows I hate that it still
Bothers me to hear the voice that I used to love to hear
Greeting me at the start of every day.

I'm tired of feeling like none of it will ever stop.

spanish mumbles

Twizzlers,
Tums,
Pumpkin bread.

French fries,
Watermelon,
Diet Coke.

Sweat-soaked skin,
Plastic leis,
Sloppy kisses,
And four-letter words.

Essential cologne,
Brut aftershave,
Old Spice deodorant,
And a Batman toothbrush.

Baseball,
Texas drawl,
Manicured hands,
An ice-cream cone for dessert.

Spicy whispers,
Worn-out leather boots,
A tanned arm over a pale shoulder,
A silly dance.

Spanish mumbles,
A knack for getting lost,
Laughter that fills a whole room……
You.