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Dec 2013 · 808
Dried Out
Mimi Dec 2013
A lot of people will write about her, I know
she was not only mine.
We are sad we are grieving
a community bands together.

My anger is macabre inappropriate:
when her light turned out, she turned out several others.
My dearest friend:
empty gas lamp.

Trying to relight is against a tempest
and sequestered in despair,
with internal lighter fluid drained
our marrow dry as dust.

(the real truth of it all is much harder to swallow
than the news story you heard)
Dec 2013 · 692
Keeping the Rose
Mimi Dec 2013
This time of year impermeable black takes over luxurious afternoon.
I take stolen moments with my garden book;
fat glossy nostalgic roses can only depress me further.
Lonely for the company of my friends
thrumming in chlorophyll,
the warm green network is contained in a small *** that I move
I move around the room with me,
following a shallow puddle of sunlight so precious it might be gold.
Mimi Feb 2013
Licking the foam off the inside of my coffee mug
I am sitting at the table working
and you can’t fathom what’s wrong with me
it feels like something other than blood is inside me
it makes me itchy all the time
and my heart concaves inside my plump chest
I am gasping at the air around me
and you ask me why I sigh so.
I feel alone wherever I go
Feb 2013 · 626
in the style of
Mimi Feb 2013
just so you know
i’m keeping a mistress
on the side
in the style of My Father

something inside me is constantly dissatisfied
Mimi Feb 2013
This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
He was sitting in the kitchen
of the house I share with three boys
he eyed me in my pajamas

He was sitting in the kitchen
basking in the light of the morning
he eyed me in my pajamas
He works for the circus that stopped in town

He is Evan’s second cousin once removed
I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
He missed the circus train to Atlanta
and needed a place to stay.

I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
We watched the dogs playing in the yard
he needed a place to stay
and put his feet up on the table

He told me stories about working at the circus
I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he put his feet up on the table
and had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte

This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave
for a few minutes he talked with Evan
about traveling (running again) to India

I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he eyed me in my pajamas
he had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave
Written in the style of Stuart Dischell's "She Put on her Lipstick in the Dark" for my creative writing class. I need feedback before I turn it in! Let me know what you think!
Feb 2013 · 458
this time
Mimi Feb 2013
it’s obnoxiously hard to identify
every year this time
I am in a depressed mood and I don’t
I don’t.
Jan 2013 · 3.0k
No Willpower
Mimi Jan 2013
Truthfully this is how it’s been
how it will be for a while
beer gut receding hairline
my grumpy artist man
buys me gin and Mexican food
and tucks me into bed at 3 when I can’t take it anymore
I don’t care how many times you forget
I’m your baby and I’ll be waiting
hating your guts
to kiss you at the door
Nov 2012 · 696
The Wisdom Tree
Mimi Nov 2012
You took me to the top of the highest hill,
nestled me in a Eucalyptus tree,
and laid the city out at my feet.
The view was unmatched
industrial beauty mixed in with the natural Earth.
The Bay in a pool underneath us;
the metal and stone of
city changing constantly.
You give me all the secret places
(in your city and in your heart).
In everything you’ve given me,
loving you has made me richer
than I’ll ever be again in my life.
Nov 2012 · 555
Little Black Holes
Mimi Nov 2012
You being gone is an excuse for my bad behavior.
My insides are all messed up.
I don’t sleep or eat the right things.
Taking pills to fix the little black holes in my system,
momentarily replace missing you with something else
deeply rooted beneath my sternum,
straining at the tendons of my neck.
You are my love and you are not here.
Oct 2012 · 2.2k
Mimi Oct 2012
When I ripped off my fingerprint
it was an accident
at first
the new skin grows
from the center outward
and I grow into a new identity.

I sleep like there’s no tomorrow
and no yesterday
Sep 2012 · 792
Burned Alive
Mimi Sep 2012
I am not a perfect human
when I was born there was gunk in my lungs
and for a while now my heart's been talking to me in rhythms
like let me out like forget to beat like no blood to my brain
or fingertips

They tried to make me a perfect human
in the summertime under the knife
under flourescents instead of the sun
crinkle sheets crinkle paper gown
crinkle pop heartbeat

When they burned me from the inside I could feel it
I woke up when I wasn't supposed to like a volcano of survival
the light was white, I screamed, I remember it all
till anestesiologist put me back to sleep
all three seconds

Days and weeks after bruise hobble
the monitor is even now every third beat
like a perfect human being's
I watch everyone around me breathe strong
I breathe strong too and only check my pulse
out of nerves.
Aug 2012 · 686
The Virgin Diaries
Mimi Aug 2012
I **** like a fairy on acid
I could bruise you with the flat of my thumb
Fly my kite way up into the sky
you lay me back, feather bed
tremble anticipating gentle
I know you want to know.
I'm too hard for that ****.
Aug 2012 · 1.1k
The Homework Assignment
Mimi Aug 2012
The homework assignment was particularly hard
you never clarify what it is that you want.

I wanted to dance with you in the ***** of a dark hill
in my drop-dead dress.
Aug 2012 · 881
Steal or Still
Mimi Aug 2012
Steal my heart
or still my heart
It makes no difference, just
filling the silence till
he says he loves me (tomorrow?
maybe never again).
So if you ask me to come I'll come
but don't you dare bore me
I'll put out (my cigarette in your eye).
Aug 2012 · 764
Smoke Signals
Mimi Aug 2012
Sapped to a pastel
against the brightly colored world
(I'd rather live in dreams about you).
I've started taking things that aren't mine
to feel closer to memory.
All pale pinks of my skin
washed in the greens of your eyes.
The bonfires I build, the misty greys I exhale
are all smoke signals to you
across the world.
*Come home to me;
you are a home to me.
Jul 2012 · 456
So Far
Mimi Jul 2012
The love of my life so far is in Australia.
My life so far, I’ve gotten so far,
but I say it to mean “there’s more to come.”
My life so far,
he’s gone so far,
but I’m too young to expect him to stay.
Or to go roots-up with him.
My only job is to wait until January.
It’s not so far
till when he’ll be home,
but each moment in each cell aches with distance.
I am so far gone.
Mimi Jun 2012
I saw him sitting at that desk drawing,
we were a bright neon star in a darker fall night.
He did not look up,
or see me the way that I saw him.
For me the world slowed down
white grit froze halfway up to some party kids nose
and the thumping bass slowed.
A light shined around him in a way,
my life changed in a way I will never be able to explain.
May 2012 · 626
Mimi May 2012
Feel muted sadness;
the lonely whir of your guts
look out the window
May 2012 · 436
The Summer Sign
Mimi May 2012
When the fox came at me, his eyes caught the last light.
I jumped in surprise;
when my feet hit the dust and dirt of the lonely meadow trail,
he turned his tail and dove into a bush.

I looked up to catch my breath
in time to see a falling star arc the sky.
Strong silver and unfaltering, the star fell
from it's throne in the sky to the horizon at my feet.

I was unnerved, and turned back the way I had come.
Standing in my path was another fox,
(presumably his mate) she looked into my eyes
then walked calmly away.

It was then that my heart turned to stone.
I have always believed in signs, however interpreting them takes intuition and the ability to think from different angles. This can be hard if you see something you don't want to.
May 2012 · 3.0k
California Man
Mimi May 2012
It was quick and sharp
like a needle under skin.
Instead: in my heart.
May 2012 · 665
Moving Back
Mimi May 2012
This place used to be like my skin
I knew every corner, every street, every wrinkle.
the sweeping expanses of prairie grass and flower fields
thick and always moving, like you could comb your
fingers through the lush green. Still a ten minute drive
in any direction.
The streets are so dusty and faded
that half the time the markings don't show up
but after all that time, I just know where to drive.
The place is the same, the players are different
and I think I want to move to India.
Mimi May 2012
Last night I held a dinner party
The boyfriends smoked on the balcony
while the girlfriends cooked.
I orchestrated three courses:
spinach salad,
lemon rosemary chicken and mushroom cream risotto,
and strawberry pie.
We even had three whole bottles of wine to match each one.

It takes a sophisticated finesse to throw one of these things,
the mess of an apartment is filled with wine-tipsy giggles
and shouts of "look I'm domestic!" when the chicken comes out of the oven.
We set the table with a white cloth and tried to match all the plates.

To sit with friends and food,
I feel, are the two most important things in the world.
We gathered at the table but we did not pray.
Instead, a toast!
To friends like family, job offers on both coasts,
boyfriends, girlfriends, to be so lucky in love,
to little Mimi, she's done so well here. For those
graduating, we're sad to leave, for those returning
we look forward to another year
with her cooking!
Mimi May 2012
My brand was my voice
self discovery party
I've made friends, and love
May 2012 · 496
Two More Days
Mimi May 2012
I'm a Marketing major thinking about
switching into Advertising
but no one will give me a straight answer
whether or not they're the exact same thing.
I guess no one really gives you a straight answer
when you're a grown up.

But when I go home for the summer I'll be
a child again, and I don't think I'll like it.

Currently the only rebellion afforded to me
are the bevy of boys from high school
who have always wanted to sleep with me
and I have never wanted to sleep with them.
So really that's very unexciting.
Apr 2012 · 989
Telephone book
Mimi Apr 2012
Not down to my shoes
They love me when I walk into a room
There's applause and shouts of MIMI
I can't help it
Party girl

I should have studied for life tonight
Instead I just left the book outside
Like the new telephone directory.

You know once, I walked past it on my door mat
For weeks until my Momma decided to come home
And read every single word in that phone book.

When I say you dont know **** about this life it's true
I'll sit out here all night to tell you so
All the time I think of that one way to escape

I always said I'd be dead before I could have this thought
I always assumed some catastrophic accident would take me home.
Isn't it up there? Because I can't find home here.
Apr 2012 · 1.3k
Ant farm
Mimi Apr 2012
What was it?
I was nothing, sitting on an ant farm couch.
We were all coming home drunk
In intervals
And taking off our clothes sliding into bed
With our respectives.
I was an ant on a farm,
Digging in lines of people
What will I do when my parents are gone?
You morbid little ****.
Lucky little me, born. Significant as
An ant on a farm
Or all alone where I'm just as real
As the people who talk to me
At parties or in my mind.
Apr 2012 · 746
Slim and Shivering
Mimi Apr 2012
Nothing's kosher for Passover
so it's you me and some salad for the week.
This is, of course, alright with me.
At the end of the month we're taking  a trip to the beach;
I'll be slim and shivering
like the spring leaves that unfurl
when I am not looking
or when I am asleep.
Mar 2012 · 571
To my imaginary friends:
Mimi Mar 2012
I got a tumblr! Play with me.
Mar 2012 · 612
Spring Fever
Mimi Mar 2012
My insides are all rustled up.
That internal migration pull
of elsewhere travel adventure.

I'm getting sick of it here,
turns out I'm not all that bright.

My horoscope says I should tell him I love him;
I think I just might.
we can up and run away

My footing here is so uncertain
I think I might just jump;
I don't want to look back at this place
that laughs in my face.
Mimi Feb 2012
I've been getting sicker
if you missed me
Feb 2012 · 1.9k
Mimi Feb 2012
I’m old enough to know but
too young to know better
the state says I’m an adult as of May
but I still don’t know what I want to be
when I grow up,
except for still carrying around my Blankie.

Teddy Bear holds up the pipe to my lips
I can’t do it on my own, I’m not so good at this,
he says breathe deep Baby, I’ve got you.
The fuzz on his face is rough when he kisses the top of my head.

Taj and Tibby walk in holding hands
“Baby!” he smiles and leans down to kiss me
“Hey little one” she says and hugs me tight.
Lauren and Luke come out of their room and
give me big smiles.
Everyone is glad I am home and I exhale
grey smoke because I am glad too.

I am the baby, but I am also the best cook.
While I clang pots in the kitchen my man pours
champagne and turns on the new speakers.
Chicken Piccatta for dinner, because when
you feed people, it’s the best way to tell them
you love them.

The flimsy laminate floors are sticky,
the practically cardboard walls are dusty,
the room like a cave is dark even with the blinds cracked open
but Taj makes us laugh and we dance to the music.
Kitchen table cleared of drug paraphernalia
becomes the flimsy garage-sale/side-of-the-road version
of the dinner table I grew up with.
The people crowded onto its edges
a kind of family.
Mimi Feb 2012
Every body's ******* about one-day-outta-the-year,
but I like to be your little princess for a night
when you open up all my doors,
pair the steak with the exact right bottle of wine
and we finish off the entire thing.
Chocolate mousse, made with love,
an entire pile of romantic movies to pick from
while you stare at me adoringly across the
candle lit
apartment that's finally clean! (just for me)
Then Brazilian jazz in a bubble bath,
(you thought of every little thing)
I lean back into you, feeling your lips rest on my hairline.
You said we should do this more often.
Then I gave you a Santa bubble beard
we took pictures
and we laughed hysterically in the light of a candle.
It's how I know, before and after it all that
**** it
(I love you.)
The trick is slipping it into conversation.
Feb 2012 · 652
Dead Weight
Mimi Feb 2012
Everyone is sick of raves except for you.
When you painted your face like a tigers
you forgot that your soul has to match.
My soul matches my face.
I left you behind too, I’ve left so many behind,
I don’t know where I’m going.
You were dead weight but
I miss you
Feb 2012 · 962
Mimi Feb 2012
I think I outgrew you a while ago.
We spent seven years close but
everything changes
and I don’t want to fight but
everything changes.

I do feel bad that we don’t talk as much.
Our worlds are too different now
to have anything to talk about.
I know you look down on my
not-an-ivy-league college
but you’re with your peers now
and I’m happy with mine. Yes you’re
brilliant with books. Not so brilliant
with human beings.
You will go on to be more successful than your mother
like she pushed you to be,
but you're still looking for your
I’m a little different, a little opposite.
Not so brilliant with books, I’d rather be with my
human beings.
I know in my heart where I’ll find my happiness
one day, and I assure you it will not be
in some grey forty story office building
still wondering why
your ex boyfriend at age seventeen
decided to kiss me under the slide
at the neighborhood park
while he was trying to forget about you.

That doesn’t feel so great for me either
being a rebound.

But at least I’ll have lived my life
and I’ll have no questions or regrets
my garden will be full of flowers.
Let’s keep disagreeing, because
I won’t let myself become so
Mimi Jan 2012
All I can say:
I'm glad you're not gone
Mimi Jan 2012
We went out to dinner and you ordered my favorite
when it came, we switched plates
because you knew I’d change my mind.

We walked into your friends house looking for some beer
instead they pulled out a sweet little baggie
filled with don’t-say-it-out-loud-named drugs.
Everyone gets big stupid smiles watching Rodger
cut it in lines on the table.

I’m trying to tell you with my eyes that my heart is beating faster
than it’s supposed to
that I am in no way comfortable here
please please take me home *******
and you told my eyes out loud,
“Yeah but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

(Full blown panic attack. It’s what you do to me

Leaning over the table like you’re about to get ******
(that was mean, but I am mad),
inhale deeply through that roll of paper.
I’m watching you sourly from the couch
whispered into your ear
“when you come down, you’re taking me the **** home”
(this entire poem goes in The Swear Jar)
instead we had makeup *** upstairs and
I flirted with all your friends.

I guess it got later. The party started going,
some Taylor kid’s speaking in my ear
“That boyfriend of yours, does he love you?”
“Not at all” (I’m a flirt but at least I am honest)
Told me to call him when I shake off the loser.

How can I shake off this loser?
How could I give away the boy (man?) who orders
my broccoli cheddar soup
so we can switch bowls
after my disillusioned moment
of chicken noodle wanting.
He carried me to bed again, and held me when I woke up
We listen to Neil Young in the car on our way out to the woods
he said
“What a sad man…his Mimi went away.”
running his hands through my hair.

This is my excuse:
you don’t know a person, until
you have gone through their medicine cabinet.
They say.
Mine have prescriptions
You’ve had to find yours yourself
to find yourself.  But now I think
it’s time to grow up, or die real young.
It’s not my problem.
I think I maybe should stop it with this
Mimi Jan 2012
Lying on top of you breathlessly panting
(2am, nonexistent sleep schedule)
I almost said “I love you” which turned into
“I you make me feel” you knew it
and I knew it. I almost ******* up.

When we wake up
(11:27, barely made it to morning)
you get in the shower and I stay in bed.
The morning feeling never lasts long, soon
you’re on the phone making plans you can’t tell me about;

illegal. Many thousands of dollars.
“Don’t tell anyone baby. Shouldn’ta asked questions”
But who would I tell?
You’re my favorite person here.

Long day, back in bed. I made you a fake pie
(12am, pudding and peanut butter in the fridge)
after you took me to see the puppies
(I didn't even have to ask twice to go).
Curled up around you I kiss your tattoos,
the picture you drew, inked into your skin,
of the woman you’ll marry
(you’ll have her colored when you meet the girl)
and you whisper you might get a few more curls added
a little more brown in her hair
but her eyes and her nose,
already match mine.

You started snoring
I turned on my side and had a panic attack.
Jan 2012 · 1.2k
Dorm Life (10 word poem)
Mimi Jan 2012
Asbestos infected living;
I am the saddest ******* earth.
Jan 2012 · 826
Place Holder
Mimi Jan 2012

Drinking on a Tuesday is just a Tuesday here.
When you wouldn’t walk me home for my contact case
I cried like the rummed-up little girl I was (am)
walking back to your place on the train tracks.
It was the first time since I moved here I’ve been able to cry;
so it all came down in snot and salt.
Every last thing. The pressure and my father and depressive
tendencies, my mother won’t see me. blurted on the grimy floor of your bathroom
I couldn’t get up for sobbing.
How I don’t love you. And I’m not going to love you.
But I don’t think you’re going to love me either
(I didn’t say that out loud).
You held me anyway;
shame. because no one sees me like this.
This is the way that I am
When my contacts fell out
I stuck them in saline filled shot glasses and you told me to blow
my nose on a paper towel. Then undressed me like I was two again
and held me while I cried myself to sleep.


Sometimes you’re at your lowest
curled up naked in a helpless bed
inadequate with nerves and pressure
so we just talk about our lives
and I hold you, and you cling to me
It’s more intimate than *** anyway.
About my weak ankle and your broken wrist,
our families, all the times we’ve been
kicked out of our homes.
One day you might come home
and listen to the jazz music in June with me
we’ll take a picnic and meet my families
One day I might go to your home
and climb the tree on a cliff
eat beef and broccoli with your uptight step mother
and see all the walls you’ve painted in the city
all the secret underground sewers painted with your name.


Sat on a still plane in the gentrified south
panicked about what exact day it was that month.
One day too late. Which is when you start to worry.

We love so young and free,
but I know you don’t really love me.

We’ve got big, big plans that don’t include each other.
No mistakes can hold me down to you, nothing.

I am meticulous with foil packets and times.

My sweet artist, I don’t know how to ask
why you stick around, if you’re following my rule,
if you’re in it a little bit for my brain too.

I’ll charm your friends and make sure you get your hair cut.
You’ll teach me to brew your coffee and smoke a pipe

As long as you don’t love me,
I don’t love you.
Mimi Jan 2012
I wonder how I got here, secluded in a grimy apartment filled with smoke. We drink gin and tonics with mint like it’s the ‘20s; we sit and talk pop culture because we know. Taj has somehow become the effective authority on all of these things, paid to social network and connected to Hollywood; he’s very skilled at playing to people’s wants. My Cadillac sits intent next to me markering in a recent drawing for his newest class. He’s already famous for his graffiti, one day I’ll bet you this extra credit project will be worth money. He drew me a fox for Christmas. Valentines day is coming up. He never tells me he loves me. Jack is watching me watch him out of the corner of his eye while putting on a new remix of an old song. He leans over and asks if I like it and I nod. I feel bubbled up with *** smoke, frozen in time and vaguely uncomfortable. I’d guess this is what it’s like to be “too high.” I want Caddy to notice, but it’s Jack that’s pushing my hair back and telling me to drink more water. It’s sweet. Despite his need to be seen as a womanizer, Jack respects Caddy too much to even try with me, he looks but he doesn’t put on any faces for me. Everyone thinks so hard about how they’re seen.
Jack says his New Year’s resolution is to do less *******, even though no one asked. Everyone hears but no one reacts. I try to keep moving my toes and stop shivering. Across from me Ky and Nate are reading the encyclopedia in open-mouthed awe. In a room full of intellectual up and comers I feel like Hemmingway did when he was my age, how all the minds gravitate to each other and sit in a ***** room by the beach and let the creativity go. Like Mary Shelly and the whole gang writing Frankenstein and Dracula in the same trip.  After a while I think Taj is going to make it, Jack will be a politician and Caddy will be lost and with another woman. Ky and Nate will still be smoking and reading the encyclopedia, all the way down to ‘z’. I am like my mother: attracting the company of smart successful men who pay her selective attention.
The door burst open and the cold air stayed in my pores after it was closed. Rodger invited himself over. It would have been all right but when Rodger is wasted he forgets his manners. In his animated state he managed to kick over Caddy’s favorite smoking piece, insult Jack and look at me a little too hard. His girlfriend had immediately passed out on the couch, but she never smiled or spoke to me anyway. Her head was cradled in the lap of a girl I hadn’t noticed. Her hair was perfect and her eyes shadowed, the liner and mascara smudging its way slowly onto her high cheekbones. She stared at me but didn’t speak. I tried to smile, but didn’t want to give away the champagne sensation covering my skin, still too up to speak. She had already formed her opinion of me, some young ******* the arm of an older boy. She was once in my position, I’m sure of it, we are the same kind of beautiful and empty eyed. That doesn’t stop her from judging, in the total of 15 seconds she looked at me. Her self is tamed and mine is wild still. Unintroduced and unnoticed by the men in the room, we have an understanding and a mutual dislike of each other, only to defend ourselves.
The room takes time to settle, a bowl has been packed for an entitled Rodger, and now that everyone is calm, Cad sits back down and puts his arm around me again. I lean into him, protected and anchored, whereas I had been floating or about to puke a minute ago. I don’t know what I said but Caddy seemed annoyed when he said “Just let it happen, embrace the feeling,” and so I kept quiet for ten minutes or so. The high was infected with guilt. Next time he looked at me-- it could have been an hour—I whispered, “I can’t” and finally he heard me, and stood up.
Cad came back into my vision with a glass of water and turned on Drive, prompting Rodger, Mrs. Rodger and my pretty enemy to leave. Ky and Nate had gone long before I could focus on noticing. Taj left for trivia night down at the bar and no doubt some girl; wrapped up in a cashmere scarf and cardigan he kissed my cheek before he went. Jack also took his graceful leave with the Rodger group to woo some girl who knew exactly what she was doing to herself. He did have a straight nosed charm, Jack. I could not blame this girl, one of many (I am embarrassed for her; I have been like this ******* many occasions).  
Taj had been sent the advanced copy of Drive in blu-ray, so we snuck it from his room and watched it that way (the only way Taj would see movies now, it is the future (for now)). Kavinsky came through Cad’s new speakers the boys had spent half an hour trying to wire earlier in the night. “They’re taking about you boy/but you’re still the same” crooned Lovefoxxx as Ryan Gosling cruised down a street, ****** intense in driving gloves. Gears shifting and motors growling are very ****, I tell Cadillac so into his ear, as he pulls me into his arms and covers me up with a blanket.
The movie was perfect, maybe because it made me feel less dizzy and sickguilty (Cad knew it would) and maybe because Ryan Gosling can wear a white satin jacket. I loved it, hardly noticing when the absent roommate Travis strolled in with Taj and tacos somewhere around 2am.  Colder as Caddy got up for a burrito, left me alone on the couch for the kitchen table. Registering Taj taking his place, playing with my curls and talking Hollywood to me. I’m staring over at Cad in his chair, he makes eye contact once or twice and I blow him a kiss before Taj repositions my head toward the television and my ear back where he can speak into it.
Eventually Cadillac taps Taj on the shoulder and motions for him to get up. With Cad back I can relax and I fall into sleep just as the movie ends. Taj and Trav have gone to their own beds and Cad leans over me, picks me up and takes me to bed knocking my elbow on the doorframe along the way. He apologizes and kisses my head but I am too tired to care. He lays me down on the bed with crimson sheets and takes off my boots but then sternly says, “Mimi, you are not a child.” and so I must get up and undress myself. He wraps me in a duvet missing its cover and his arms. I trust him long enough to fall asleep.


Standing in front of the stove it was hot, but I am easily overheated. He came up behind me and said in my ear, “you’re lovely” watching me put the last piece of French toast on the large stack, getting ready to scramble eggs. He kissed my cheek. Then my neck and then my lips, taking me away from my cooking to be pulled against him, for a sweet short minute and went back to the living room with his friends. Jack had mysteriously reappeared in the night; he said he locked himself out of his apartment after leaving to see one of his girls. Taj just sat and blasted Radiohead over the new speakers, shouting something relevant at me. I scramble the eggs and make up plates, two pieces of toast each and a nice healthy pile of eggs. It is gone very quickly and no one says thank you, except for a smile from Caddy and a kiss on the forehead. It’s usually enough for me, knowing he likes to show me off to his friends. I sit down with my cup of coffee and plate, within a few minutes Cad suggests he takes me home. I resentfully take time to finish my coffee. But we are both busy and he is right, so I say goodbye to the boys and gather my things. We drive with the “best MC on the game these days” (so I am told) over the weak speakers of the car. Cad drives with his arm around me always. Cruising into my building’s parking lot I lean over for a kiss on my forehead, nose, lips. He says go, but his hand still sits on my shoulder so I stay for a little longer. “You’ll probably have to let go of me if it’s time for me to go Cad,” I say quietly, with a tentative smile on my face. He grins back and lifts his arm. I slide out of the suicide seat and smile at him, but he’s looking at the radio dials. Then my face. His eyes give him away, softened around the edges with affection. Maybe love, but he’d never say it and I refuse to say it until he does. I try not to think about it much as he drives away to smoke up again with his friends. I wonder if this is how it will always be, but then I realize our kind of “always” is only the next few months. I turned unsteadily and walked up the stairs to my empty room—dark and overheated smelling heavily of sugar and spice candles-- with the geese outside my window for company. I haven’t slept here for days.
Mimi Dec 2011
Sometimes I forget
I don't celebrate Christmas
like everyone else.

Many times I think
it would be much easier
to be just like you,

And not field questions:
"Do you also celebrate
Thanksgiving, like us?"

I am simply a
Jewish American girl.
Yes I am different.

Not so much different
That you should tip-toe around.
Like you, I'm human.
Get it? It's a series of haikus!
Dec 2011 · 880
Mimi Dec 2011
I am twice the size of my mind
a half zipper from being undressed
They say kids with higher IQs do more drugs
because we’re looking for something
there’ve been studies but
I haven’t found anything yet
I’m just shivering dizzy confused lying on your bed
not going to puke.
In your arms you’ve got me safe for some reason.
It takes all my effort to lift my head “What?”
“You’re lovely” you whisper
that’s not what you said the first time I think.
“even now?”
“Sleep, baby”
I always had a thing for boys tellin' me what to do.
Mimi Dec 2011
The laundry is done
I am safe and warm in a pile of it on the floor
from the sheets and towels
I stare up at him adoringly.
“You are a gorgeous creature”
said the man on the television to the woman he loved.
“You are a gorgeous creature” he said to me.
I climbed to his lap to rest my cheek against his.
Mimi Nov 2011
I haven't got upstairs yet
want it to be when my eyes are heavy that I fall into bed
my very own bed.
I want it to be a truthful sweet moment
alone with my thoughts and my sheets.
Finally to be home.
Home is just a word.
All I need is a place where people love me,
and feed me,
and sweep my hair out of my eyes.
It could be anywhere.
But when I stepped out of the cold into the foyer;
then into the den
and no one knew I was there yet, I saw the clock.
The old maritime chipped-gold-plated clock that chimes on the hour.
Had not moved since 7:27 very many months ago,
since last time I was here.
This has been my job since I was very young.
Open the clock face and reset the time to 2:27
To grab the gold key hidden under it's wooden frame,
to first twist the clockwork cog that creaks and
hear the ticking alive again from turning wheels.
Then the cog that works the bell,
and flick the hidden switch to turn on the chime.
Close the face with a click and sigh
as my family runs in to greet me.
Nov 2011 · 772
Living With You Briefly
Mimi Nov 2011
Let’s just kiss and make something up.
It’s plain that I’m not sleeping enough
as a practiced insomniac you know,
and make coffee for us in the morning.

Last night we fell over laughing,
exhaling smoke I drawled,
“Everything in this kitchen it sticky”
For five minutes I think we laughed.

I made brownies.
You held me around the waist,
and spoke with your eyes.
Mimi Nov 2011
I don't have walls
rather fences
your brain could hop
I am having waaaaaay too much fun with these 10 word poems.
Mimi Nov 2011
4am made me cry
to see behind glasses
into eyes
Nov 2011 · 801
Mimi Nov 2011
Sometimes it’s easy to think that he might love me.
Curled up on the couch like it’s Sunday afternoon
he kisses my forehead softly.
Our faces touch, his cheekbone up against my nose.
Eyes closed we sigh and enjoy the feeling.

He asks if he’s a good blanket.
I say I’ve had softer but never sweeter.

We are not paying attention to the television.
I am stuck in feeling his hands playing with my hair,
and tracing my bones
up to my neck, asks if my necklace is real pearls.
I tell him yes they are real,
you can tell because they are imperfect,
and that is what gives them away
as genuine.
night at the artist's apartment after a meeting.
Nov 2011 · 2.5k
Street Smarts (10 Word Poem)
Mimi Nov 2011
Strawberry ***** veins,
pronounce "Appalachia"
Take care of me.
Experiment for the group "Fragments"
Nov 2011 · 420
3:04 am November 5, 2011
Mimi Nov 2011
Something snapped in my heart
I don’t know when
but it’s been like this for a while now.
Like never trust anyone but yourself
nothing left to be loyal to
like I didn’t even expect to live this long.
Is it strength that keeps me here?
something has snapped.
Instead of taking a knife to my veins
I just don’t sleep.
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