I walk in
and throw my faded, ripped, three year old, coca cola pajama pants
toward the tub
just soft enough to miss the shower curtain.
I close the door and take off my shirt,
undo my belt, step out of my pants
and just stand there and look at myself:
my hair is a dull brown, and messed up, but I don't care tonight.
My pupils are dilated; a few too many ibuprofen.
my nose still looks half broken on the side opposite my scar.
my left eye has bags, as it always has,
as does my right- between the merging of two faint bruises;
one from a Nerf bullet impact turned sty I had removed,
the other from a zit which overtook my cheek a few weeks back.
my forehead is wrinkled prematurely
my unshaven chin and scalp both growing grays.
my collarbones stick out enough for me to fit my fist in when I lean forward.
my neck widens in the back in a way that looks unnatural.
my biceps, chest and stomach are all muscular, firm;
the result of two workouts every day.
But it is my leg that shows my pain,
shows the strength I still tell myself I have
or rather the strength of the weakness I sometimes let take over in it's place-
knee to ankle;
fresh cuts, all bleeding
each a quarter inch apart.
not the most I've ever had, but the longest stretch of my body I've ever covered completely.
and I don't even remember why.

The rain would usually bother me
but today I'm tired
and sickness and intoxication are both wearing off
so each little droplet does nothing to phase me
from my half awake daydreaming state
staring into others faces,
just aware enough to turn when they turn.
Most days I would study each line-
the smiles, the wrinkles, the way their hair parts
just trying to understand each of them.
Today I'm looking just to look at something moving
so I don't look at the concrete
and fall asleep, bored.

The three other classes on this end of campus
are each let out early
and file through this bottleneck
quietly enough that I only notice the last few as they walk by.
She looks up from the ground and sees me.
Saying nothing, she smiles in a way that makes me wonder if she's looking past me,
I look, there's nothing there.
I smile back for a second, as well as I can.

Later I catch her smile again from a crowd in the hall.

I stop for a second,
not physically, I keep waking.
but, I keep my eyes there, smiling.
she's already looked away, so I don't worry.
It comes harder to me today- studying a face,
and her's is one I've never been able to figure out,
so I give up and keep walking.

Am I a friend to her,
or something more?
Am I what I wanted to be
years ago-
A thought in her head before she falls asleep?

Or am I just broken because I think this hard about a simple smile?

I've been out of it lately
been thinking less
sleeping more.
goin to bed at 8pm
waking up at 1pm.
I know it ain't the fact that I'm sick
it's all the cough syrup I've been drinking.
never been high on anything
but the world seems... softer, now.
I'm halfway though that huge bottle,
don't know if I'm gonna miss it when it's gone.
I've told myself that I'm not gonna buy more,
but I'm not so sure

We're standing in the cold, rainy silence
when he opens and closes the door without a sound
and stands on the foot brush behind me
leaning against the garbage can
that always seems to have a backpack behind it.
Without a smile or a hint that he's going to speak
he says,"sup" in a fading, worried tone
speaking to me but looking away.
she takes three steps and wraps her arms around him
smiling at me over his shoulder as if to say- something,
I'm not sure what.
but I smile back, and take a few steps backward
in an attempt to be there, but only on the fringe.
A small circle forms around them,
nobody speaking for a few minutes
and then everybody splits into their own conversations
except me
and as soon as the bell rings, we all walk off
they find each other again and walk together
and I smile for her.
She was like my sister once, for just a second

1.
outside;
the sky is dark blue
fading into black shadow
behind the Sequim Safeway.
raindrops are illuminated
momentarily in the half-light
lingering below the light pole
that rises above the window-line

2.
Some dance mix
of a Kenny G. song
echoes through the building
landing even here,
in this room inside a room.
the abandoned cup
of mountain dew
shakes suddenly and spills
on the Clallam county classified page
on top of the toilet paper holder.

3.
Ten steps
covers the empty monster can
held in dry hands
in a fine layer of dew.
headlights reveal
an ever-present purple tint
to the cloudless sky,
covered only slightly
by the exhaust
which dissipates quickly
in the warmer than usual
humid air.

4.
Twenty nine miles-
the lights of the city soon disappear
and only the houses with porch lights
even seek to confirm their existence.
fog covers the asphalt
halfway back,
the world twists at every turn,
bad eyes and old age to blame.

5.
Fifteen minutes later;
rain covered doors slam
and soon after, so does another door.
but the rain is not forgotten-
it lingers in dry pathways on the skin,
tasting less organic,
but comforting just as much

2 PM:
I'm brushing my teeth
been awake two hours
cause I had no reason to wake up earlier.
Thinking it would be nice
if someone texted me
wanting to hang out.
thinking it  would be great
if she texted me
for any reason at all.
but nobody will
cause nobody cares
and I sleep for 14 hours a night on the weekends
knowing i'll go nowhere when awake.

My phone vibrates
and I tell myself
"it ain't her, that's for sure"
but  it is
with a simple
"hey :)"
i respond
she answers me with
"I was thinking about you today"
And for a second I smiled wider than I had in months
But she had only tried a tea I'd recommended.
I tried to keep talking
but she was waiting for a lunch date
and instead of saying what I was thinking
(that i'd never been on a real date,
never eaten with anyone other than family
and family friends.
never sat anywhere waiting for anyone
because nobody ever shows up for me
and I'm not allowed to go anywhere anyway)
I said
"I hope you have a good time"

No response


10 PM:
I watch her get on facebook
and wait 15 minutes before messaging her
"hey, how're you"
she take eight minutes
to say she's too good to be true.
I say
"that's great :D what's goin on?"
her response is simple
"I don't know how to explain"

I leave her alone
and we don't talk
but I sit there and stare at the ceiling
crying without realizing
wishing I had been a part of her being that great
wishing I had been a part of anyone being that great
But I hadn't and I haven't ever.

But what am I to her
when she texts me  
(something only my ex has ever done)
and then someone changes her day
someone who isn't me
and then she won't talk to me

The answer is one I can't wrap my mind around
one I don't want to accept
and maybe that's why I'm crying:
I'm just a friend to her
and I want to be more
but I never will be.

I'm just a friend
and that's how she can go from thinking about me and texting me
to not talking to me
in eight hours

I wonder
as I sit bathed in the half light from the lonely bulb left on in the kitchen,
the dog the only other person awake;
does she feel anything for me,
any bit of what I feel for her?
am I even a thought in her head before she falls asleep?
like she often is for me.
Am I anything to her?
She is the one I avoid writing about
for fear that she will see it, she this.
this is only the second poem I've written about her.
but, wherever you are at this moment,
I want you to know,
before I go to sleep
that tonight, like most nights
you will appear, even just momentarily in my thoughts before i fall asleep
The time I save for positive thoughts
and hopes for the future.
and that hope is simple:
that you're hoping that I'm thinking about you as I'm falling asleep