i hate that i want to think bad things of the girl you chose over me cause it's misdirected anger and i want to tell her to know better and watch her temper cause you don't like it when i raise mine and i should tell her to watch where she steps cause your **** is everywhere and i want to yell at her to stop looking in the mirror and look in front of her cause his opinion of her hair and his hands on her the insides of her thighs will follow her forever and she'll be sitting where i am wondering if she should have said yes more often if she actually doesn't know what she's talking about and doubting the words she holds in her mouth and holds in her throat and holds in her stomach and holds in her toes. maybe i'm projecting again but i don't think so.

when i was in kindergarden i was taught to be kind and explain why i was sorry when i was i never questioned my mind anymore than i questioned why i rode the bus every morning every morning every morning every morning i woke up and i knew i was awake because i could blink and move my fingers and not just my fingers but my hands and not just my hands but my arms and not just that but my whole body actually, i could move my entire body and i knew i could because i saw it happening and only i can say i know my body is moving for certain because i am the one making it move in the first place so how can you stand there watching me walk and watching me jump and i'm running now and i'm climbing and i'm screaming and i'm spinning and dancing and you're watching me but you insist i'm standing still
i am awake and i know this for certain

Walking home from my friend’s house after making music and making faces and his roommate’s ex-girlfriend was in the kitchen, her back to mine across the living room and I closed the door.
I walked the eight blocks to my house.
To the left
To the right
I thought of you but only a little bit.
I laughed when I slid on the ice on Summer Street and I inhaled deep to relish in the lack of sun, and for the first time, I listened that night in November
with her cold and slender hands over both of my ears.

I’m just trying to eat my french toast and drink my coffee but you keep cutting me off as I’m about to take a sip take a bite asking why I like it with sugar i add a spoonful of creamer and you’re laughing
but not in a loving way
talking about my schoolwork and my plans for the garden
and you skip over the congratulations and mention your ex girlfriend
going on about your ex girlfriend and my face has hardened
i drink my coffee and try not to listen
i eat my french toast and i don’t pay attention
i’m looking at the man with the book eating alone
i’m looking at the waitress wishing she were home
excuse me and i’m up
the bathroom is empty and nobody saw me
the mirror is clean and i am *****
the lights are brighter than i want them to be
and the soap dispenser is empty

i changed the lightbulb cause my boss asked me to
i was going to do it myself but then she asked me to

My therapist says I'm doing really well and when she says it, she makes eye contact and her posture is relaxed and I didn't even mention her tone yet but think of your mother when you've been heartbroken for the first time if you're the kind that has been heartbroken and if your mother is a soft one but mine is and I am and she was like that.
Her tone was that of my mother when I was heartbroken for the first time.

you were as a kid that day and the one after and then again and after that too and I'm not sure what was in your OJ that first morning, the tuesday morning, that you shrank 10 pants sizes and threw out your books to make room for bright things but I wish I'd had apple juice in my fridge that day