When they buried me in the dark, I was frightened.
I didn’t like the taste of earth.
And I was so thirsty.
Some people are no good with plants,
Even the hardiest shrubs
Wither and wilt in their careless hands.
You aren’t one of them.
When no-one else could see,
You took such good care of me.
Water, warmth and love.
These are my needs, but I had no voice
With which to ask; without you
I would have remained inert
A lost life, in the dirt.
See now, how I blossom?
Just a shoot, but I will astound them all
With my beauty, in time.
Thank you for caring for me,
Thank you for helping me to grow.

You say I don’t need a poem
to capture the day in a frame and tuck it
beneath my pillow
But I’d like to have it there in case I forget
the way the armadillo on the side of the road
lay belly up, beer bottle in paw
a redneck's respects for the deceased

or the feeling of three in the morning
pounding in my skull, soaking in memories
trivia pursued and articles of obfuscation: the elucidation of the world
seen through bottle-green binoculars and heard
through the neighbor's windchimes ringing out diminished sevenths
and questions I don't want to answer
or even ask out loud

I want to tuck it in my wallet
for times that I can't remember your faces
or the scent of your shampoo, or the order of keychains
on your keyring, or the times we drove to East Jesus Nowhere
and you ripped the leaves from my calendar, ticking
and turning my seasons by the mile markers in the cement

I do this to engrave it in my cerebrum
the nights we ran outside in our pajamas in the rain
and danced for a while, then danced some more,
turning and leaping and spinning and reaching
and falling down to weep for no reason
mourning the morning
among the sharpened blades of grass

You laughed at me once
remember that? how you scoffed and snatched
my paper from my spiral and stuffed it in the trash can
telling me not to write fiction in history class
but it's just as much history as every other Jefferson
another amendment you'll never read

But I forgive you. you're not the first
to tell me to get my feet out of the clouds
because my head's already gone too far for saving
or to attempt to stifle my addiction to
the scratch of pen on paper
the scent of ink on tree
the pulse of blood in my brain

I cling to syntax like religion
keeping the words pinched in my fists like pixie dust
hoping if I say the right abracadabra
the pen will turn to a wand
and I can paint you the details
one day at a time

All I can think to do at the table
is stare at the bright orange Reeses'
cups package and the Payday
bars illuminated by light
from the vending machine. I sit,
wondering whether they drip

inside their package. My arm drips
to my pocket. I bring money to the table,
ready to decide just what is it
that I want to buy. I prefer Reeses',
but it's been long since I've tasted the light
caramel and crunchy peanut of a Payday.

This decision would be easy if I had a Payday.
As it stands, my money is dripping.
If it's any indication of how light
my wallet is, I can barely bring one back to the table.
It's a tough decision. I've been craving Reeses'
for weeks. I haven't decided, but this is it.

I walk up to the machine. I'm done sitting,
It's a question of this or that. Payday?
Heads. I reach in my pocket. Tails, Reeses'.
I manage the quarter out. How could I know I'd rip
a dollar in the process? Back to the table
for damage control. The tear was light

enough not to be serious, just a slight
rip. It's easier to flip a coin while you sit
anyway. I toss it in the air and it lands on the table.
Heads. I smiled, my decision was made. Payday.
I walk back to the machine and drop
coins in, not making eye contact with the Reeses'.

As I get up, I feel terrible. I've betrayed the Reeses'
cups I've enjoyed since I was a child, the delight
that kept me going when there wasn't a drip
of tea left. I think I'll go downstairs to sit
and eat my new sugary master, the Payday.
This time I pass by, not return to, the table.

I look back, past the table, at the orange Reeses'
packages, then glance at my Payday. It's light,
I won't have to sit to eat it. Ashamed, my eyes drip.