I tried to hide the
way my cheeks dropped
I could feel it happening
my entire face landing in
my lap, I didn't consider
that to be losing my virginity

I considered why I felt so hurt
and decided it was because for
three years you were my first
and now you're not anything
and there was nothing and
in the middle of my web
design class, I started to
cry.

Here's to hoping i'm beautiful
because I can't see what others do
words are a faulty part, a non-adhesive
trying to glue with water, today is the
day. today is the day but I'm just
screaming at God, well if today is
the day, then why I am at work?
why is there no time to think?
why are these people in this
bitter little town allowed to
exist?

Here's to hoping I'm beautiful
because I can't see what others do.

you're living under a warm
pink light and I can see you
holding her hand between
the wooden seats in that
cafe

there's a glass of cold water
on my desk and I'm about
to go to bed.

reneged, reneged
like Matt Nathanson
all those nasty poems
I wrote about that one
kid are only half truths
because I realized I can
fall in friends and not
fall in love, would you
believe that kid, reneged
that kid, reneged would
you believe that kid I wrote
all those nasty poems about
made me laugh today, enough
to make me think I was burning
calories being happy instead of
the latter.

a week before my twentieth
and I'm crying over spilled milk
spilled boyfriends, spilled body
spilled me all over the carpet
you can't even pick that up

you can't even pick that up.

somewhere along the way
I convinced myself that I
am a one time thing, because
all of my exes date wispy blondes
with blunt bangs and blue
eyes, who probably listen
to a lot of She & Him or
Neutral Milk Hotel and
I am the Frida Kahlo of
their past, not to say that
Frida was bad but I guess
you get what I mean.

still too
afraid to
see the
life you
have
made

maybe you
take the brunt
of the storm,
after all, there
is only one set
of footprints
behind me
and the wind
I feel may only
be what peeks
through your
fingertips.

out of no where this morning,
I remembered the scars on your
stomach and wondered how on
earth you made it through your
earlier years when they tied the
tubes up in your chest.

Chaz said something like, "she said
he had this weird thing about that."

and I still felt the inherent need to
defend you. No, he never did
You were much softer around
me, a closed wardrobe that
slowly creaked open, maybe
I pried at first, but you
did.

but I am a different
kind of adventurous.
even if I only dance with
others, or hit whistle notes
with Brett, even if Joe's the
only one I'd kiss without
a single regret

I love long car rides, I'll
take your shift, I'll let
you sleep an extra two hours
I love the smell of sunscreen
and graham crackers and how I've been
sitting in these shorts for too
long that there has to be
a sweat stain.

I don't know, have you ever had
cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
We'd make it to Santa Cruz on time.
I may not climb the Himalaya's with
you, or go to Paraguay because I'm
afraid of chronic diarrhea, but I am
so much more than my fears.


Have you ever had cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?

I'm too often concerned
with things I can't have
and what would he think
if he saw me naked? well
what if he did see me naked?
and what if he didn't like what
he saw? Well i suppose that is
too bad,
is what I should tell myself.

I'm reminded of
how good a friend
I could be if I ever
just wanted to be
friends.

I was mad;
but when he
spoke I saw
his words
wrapping
around my
heart softening
the edges I had
whetted too quickly

I'm not sure if my
dreams change to
suit other people
or if suiting other
people has pleased
me. Or if the things
I form affinities for
actually appeal to
me.

you were once so
scared of what I
thought--that day
you thought I was
going to break up with
you for getting arrested,
for scaling the elementary
school and then running from
the cops. Trust me, that was
the silliest thing you could
have done, not the worst.

I think you had it backwards
about me.

there are a couple things I remember in particular;

at the beach when I clumsily tangled my fingers
with yours and you told me to  
get off the freaking train tracks
because you could hear the
speed cars whistling a ways
back, I took one of those
sun-soaked pictures of
you and you said,
can't you feel it?
what's still between
us? I shuffled beneath
the question and told
you to stand out in
front of me so I could
get yet another photograph
of you in front of the sunset.

sometimes I just need
to undress, address, this skin
because I need to
shake out the
dust

I'm equating my self
worth with beauty, with
how often my phone
lights up or how often
it doesn't, how smooth
my shoulders are, and
wouldn't someone care
to kiss me?

I'd rather base
myself on much
more.

hot mug between
my palms--I will
hold you just like
that, gingerly,
barely there
but you're
still here

Swapping emotions
like jenga blocks, setting
them on top, aside for later
I'm good at trading one feeling
for whatever suits me best, makes
me a bit guilty for ignoring the
issue at hand. Unless it's really
gone? I never quite know when
things are really gone.

for about two years
all I wanted was to get
married and I wonder
at which point in time
did that change? because
all i want to do now, is
set off lanterns and see
the world.

I forgot to paint
my toes at your
house so another
six months of polish
would stay with me
reminding me of
home.

in the shower i stare at my fingernails
thinking that soon I will be in the plane
on my way home and the entire day will
have passed and I will never get it back.
The water is warm and I wonder if this is
how I time travel, by merely thinking of
the future. I tell myself I must appreciate
every moment or otherwise not think of
such things, but within seconds I am
hours away from that shower, then
suddenly on a plane, and soon I will be
in my bed wondering if this week even
happened or if i am just dreaming.
traveling. Only
Remembering.

we are in your car
and I ask to play a
song, you ask if it
is good quality and
I am on the plane
giving a little smile
to a book unsure as
to whether or not I
am still in love with you.

Gaudy necklace still
beneath my pajama shirt,
they talked about things
till three am but i still
woke up at nine and
ate trail mix on the couch,
thinking about how nothing ever
goes the way i want it
too and how badly i just wanted to
kiss someone when the space needle
erupted into a silver sparkle and
brought the new year.

You said thanks for
the closure and I
tried to hide how
wide my eyes got
all this time and
I was hoping maybe
maybe? maybe? maybe
what? Maybe, maybe.
What was I hoping
for?

how easily i remember
why I loved you after
all this time, it's strange
to see you talk and watch
your eyes move and hands
tremble gently pouring
coffee grounds, you'd
never say you're
nervous but
right as I
thought that
you strummed the
guitar and said so.

thank you
thank you
thank you
for being a
part of my
life.

last month i jumped
at the thought of wishing
you a happy thanksgiving
but until yesterday it didn't
occur to me that I should
wish you a merry christmas
and I like that, I really
like that.

I let you too
far in and like
a brisk wind you
threw                  my                     doors
open and whistled
through the kitchen
nestledbetweenthe
crackswithyourdirty
self and skittered beneath
the dishwasher, in the corners
under doors, but I'm sweeping
you out because I want none of
you beneath my fingernails
none of you locked in the
cuticles of my hair, I will
whitewash the walls of
my heart if I have
to.

I don't want to make
this some unspoken battle
between who can be there first
who can see it first. Everyone
denies a game when they see
it, but even that is child's play
and I'm not a child
anymore.

You asked me why I stopped
talking to you. I told you a half
truth, but really it was because
I was sick of hearing you hate
everything in existence

I should worry less
about the talent in
your fingers and
take pride in my
own

i know that i tend
to over-think the new
year, as if a single day
will change my entire
life. but you know, what
if. What if, and what's wrong?
what's wrong with believing the
new year will be the start of something
wonderful? Let me tell you;
it is okay to have such hopes
and be afraid of them too.

I mop up an old me
and forget why I fell
in love with you, how
sad, but also how entirely


grand.

some fights are
as short as one
word or two,
and over before
you could say so
or think so, some
fights happen while
nothing is said, some
fights happen all in your
head.

i no longer justify
my decisions with
self, and I find myself
murmuring reason
on the way home,
working through
thoughts like thick
nets of string, always
finding the end, never
cutting corners, snipping
middles, I'm not
cheating
anymore.

let me
take my
hair down
for you.

I've stood aloof in the
middle of traffic stops
at green lights, sideswiped
by every other car, left stained
by paint embedded in gashes
but I've picked up my bags and
against all odds, crossed the ****
street.

today someone told
me I have beautiful
eyes--and would you
believe, that's the first
time anyone has ever
said that to me?

I cannot
defend
God but
who says
he needs
defending

it wasn't snowing
but there was snow
falling from somewhere

today someone said I have
a good name, and I do.

Today, I finally let go of

you.