Brown, wrinkled
and bound to fall off
I didn't yet realize
that I was more saddened
by the loss of time
than the loss
of my leather belt bracelet.

So worn
your edges crackled,
my skin tanned
around your braided
familiarity.

Senior year was over,
a bittersweet ending,
and yet
all I could think about
was that emptied
tan line
that I never wanted to
fill in.

Two years
passed
I kept
you wrapped
into
my skin.

My wrists were thin
with the bones
making corners
in my body
more slender
in your embrace,
I felt elegance
weightless
adorned
by your character
matching mine.

Built into my skin
I wore you
through sweat drips
and steamed showers.


I saw your layers
begin to lift
you hadn't left me,
not
yet.

Snapped in half
I held your carcass
in my left hand.

The metal notches
shone through
their scratches.

I stared down
your years
in my hand.

The cold classrooms
locked their doors
switched their lights,
and it was summer.

A picture image
engrained in my mind;
Your bracelet body
blurring my red spandex
sitting just beneath.


My locker lotion
under the sun
sparkled on my skin.

My body
whole
and young.

Change
gradually
came.

Home still sat
five minutes away,
and my friends
responded to nick names.

Memories sat
pressed in the palm
of my hand
pieces of the past
setting a precedent
for the future.

When summer made its final touches
On our far-from-senior-souls
We packed bags and stuffed away memories

We folded away track t-shirts
And cheer leading skirts
We tucked away trumpets
And color guard uniforms
Pressed against the back walls of our closets
Underneath a teal box
Of all-but-blue memories

We reopened our backpacks
Our boxes
And our trunks
To fill a room with newfound youth
With untouched purpose

We created laughs
Where there had not even been empty echoes
Bound by immaturity
Searching for our selves
On a journey we had yet to even recognize

And it was about to be summer again
When sunshine would spin our spirits

So we made some tears
Over lost grades
And missing friends
Over newfound hope
And uncertain tomorrow.

I pressed my left heel down to get it into the strap of my sparkled sandal--bought from the cheap version of the rich girl store; I got them more than half off.
I'm a fraud.

Sliding my foot into the shoe,
the way I've done so many times before,
I lose my balance.

And there goes the first one.
I knew the nails were coming off;
I'm not all that wealthy.

I have to wait until the last minute to cough up fifteen bucks to get these things re-done.
I thought it just popped the nail straight off,
but it throbs and is begging for me to pay it some attention.

I peer down at where the once perfectly manicured nail (baby blue tips and all) had sat upon my index finger.
It has left a ****** mess--jagged and imperfect.

I can see my real nail drawn up next to my cuticle like a smile.
Placed on top is a half moon of hardened acrylic until it breaks off near the soft doughy point of my freshly exposed fingertip.
Edgy.
Almost.

The blood lines the rim and trickles it's way down
curving its way around the smile;
highlighting the crescent of my own fingernail.
It throbs.

“****.”
I say wanting someone to hear me.
“****.”
a little louder.

I just want to complain lately.
I want a little attention for the suffering I put my own self through.
As I wait it throbs more.

I wipe the blood away just to watch it refill.
I walk down the stairs,
and they take care of me.
They give me my oohs and ahhs and owes,
put some ointment on a paper towel because we don't have bandaids,
wrap it with tape,
and I'm off to sew my dress back together for dinner.

My sister's dress;
my sister's dress that she got from a nearby neighbor
who stuffed it in a trash bag and left it there for us to take.

Maybe I will get a discount.

A beard to hide the scars
And a bottle to drown the pain.
We don't know who you are,
But we want you screaming our name.

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

I feel the caress of my own fingers
on my own neck as I place my collar
and think pityingly
of the kind women I have known.