annmarie

annmarie Nov 2013

I don't think I've ever mentioned to you
just how much.

If you collected all the sand
from every beach on earth,
(including the one you took me to
the day we felt particularly adventurous,)
and weighed every ounce of it,
you might have measured some
of how heavily my heart pounds around you.

And if you gathered all the stars
that dance across the Milky Way,
and counted them up, one by one,
you'd have a fraction of the number
of times you've made my heart
stop completely, in awe of you.

And if you walked through every butterfly exhibit
of every science museum and zoo on the planet,
and allowed each and every one of them
to flutter their wings against your skin,
you could maybe get an idea
of the feeling in my stomach every time I see you.

And if you found every book ever written—
every poem, every letter, every essay—
that tried to describe what this feels like,
and you leafed through every page, taking in
every single cliché and thought in existence on the topic,
you might know some of the words that go through my head
every time that you get closer to me.

That's how much.

For Plorsch, and for Slavindia, and to Jaycup.

annmarie Nov 2013

Postcard to Jaycup

Hey, kiddo,
how's everything back in Chicago?
It's almost gotten boring
here in Florida.
It's pretty early still,
but I'm almost certain that
today will be exactly the same
as yesterday was,
considering that the day before
was exactly the same as well.

I tried fishing, like you said I should,
but I didn't catch anything.
I think it's better that way, though,
cause I still think I would feel terrible
if I had actually hurt any of the fish.
But when we were finishing up,
three dolphins jumped out of the water
just a few feet from the dock—
and that was amazing.

Are your college essays going okay still?
Try not to be too stressed about it, kiddo,
You know you're an amazing writer
and I can't think of any school in the country
who wouldn't be lucky to have you.
Finish up with the sixteenth soon, though,
I miss having you to talk to.

Oh, and I've been wondering,
now that Thanksgiving is over and all:
What exactly is it
that a boy like you might want for Christmas?
I've tried to think about it a lot,
but really, I have no idea,
because you deserve something perfect
and I'm not sure what that looks like yet.
I'm hoping that by the end of December
I'll know more about what to get you
I'm a little bit nervous about it, to be honest,
I've never really had a boy to shop for.
And nothing I've come up with so far
has been anything close to
the right kind of gift for someone like you.

I guess this is where I'll close or something,
just writing to let you know I was thinking of you.
Love you lots, kiddo,
call me when you can.

annmarie Nov 2013

To Pluto and Back

Remember the days in middle school
when we'd take a notebook (exactly like
the ones I now fill with poetry)
and write back and forth in it,
trading off between passing periods
and pouring out our hearts?
That was only a year or two ago,
but now you feel so far away
that I don't even remember if
I made you up in my head.

Remember all the times eighth grade
when we'd go to each other's houses
and make monkey bread
just to finish off the last bite an hour later?
I haven't baked anything with a friend
since the last time we did that.

Remember how we signed off
every time we wrote in that little notebook,
with a drawing of a whale
and our acronym that stood for
Love You To Pluto And Back?
To this day whales are still my favorite
and just the thought of the acronym
makes me smile.

Remember the Painted Penguin
and how we were the oldest girls in the store
but we didn't even mind
because it was so much fun
to be doing silly things together?
I still have all the little ceramic statues
that we painted over with shaky hands.

Remember the boy I told you about,
the one who gave me my first kiss
and was the only one who said he loved me
and got the same response back from me?
We broke up last June,
but a week ago exactly
he told me he still loved me like he used to,
and he still got the same response back from me.

Remember all the times
that I messed up
and you were angry enough
to let all your hurt out on me,
and I deserved it?
My best friend now
talks exactly the same way you do
when she's upset with me
and I deserve it.

Remember the years when
we never would have hesitated
to call each other the best of friends?
I still love you just as much,
but you've stopped returning texts
and I haven't seen you at all
in the past two years.
And I've really tried to tell you
that I miss you more than anything,
but it absolutely terrifies me
that I don't think you feel the same.

How is it that just years ago we were saving each other's lives and now I'm scared to even text you because I know you won't even bother to respond? What happened to us?

annmarie Nov 2013

Thanksgiving Break

Weird to think we went all summer
not speaking to each other once,
because now that you're back in my life
even going just one day
without hearing your voice
or reading a message from you
seems pretty close to absolutely
impossible.

finish your college applications and turn your phone back on, I miss you. :(

annmarie Nov 2013

From Thirty-Six Thousand

I'm thousands of miles above the ground,
and far below me, straight down,
umbrellas are blossoming open
and doors are closing
and those who can are staying inside,
to keep out of the thunderstorm
that I'm watching from up here.

(Lightning looks very different
when you're miles above it.)

And up here, where I am,
the sky is a brilliant hue—
I don't think I could describe it with
azure, or sapphire, or ultramarine—
it's really only describable
with moments.

The sky up here is a perfect day in summer
with your two best friends
and a lot of ice cream.
The sky up here is the day after it snows
and the blanket of white on the ground
is still untouched and sparkling
in the sunlight that's returned again.
The sky up here is letting go
of the thing weighing your heart down forever,
and watching it sail away on dandelion seeds
in the minutes right before
the sun blushes red and pink
and bends down to kiss the horizon.

And miles and miles below me,
the thunderstorm is going on.
So I wish I could tell all the people
who are running to get out of the cold rain
to stop, and to dance in it,
and to make the most of even times like this,
because directly above all the clouds
that are blocking their view of it right now,
the sky is still the most amazing
shade of cerulean ever to exist,
and it always is just as vibrant
wether their situation lets them see it or not.

I just really really like writing poems in planes and I really really like this one it's kind of inspired by something my mom told me years and years ago that has stuck with me forever and I just was thinking about all of it...

annmarie Nov 2013

Twelve-Step Program

I've never really felt like doing
anything like drugs or alcohol.
But being around you makes me
understand
why people love the feeling.

But they aren't as lucky as I am,
cause you can cause me to
forget
absolutely
everything
and make me dizzy
just by being next to me.

(Honestly, just thinking about you
makes my stomach do backflips.)

On the other hand, they're luckier.
Cause I've tried time and time again
to get rid of this addiction,
and I can't bring myself to do it,
and there isn't a Twelve-Step Program
to quit you.

annmarie Nov 2013

Lionhearted

My best friend's younger brother
was cornered by older girls today
and punched in the eye—
because he wasn't athletic
and they thought that made him weak.

Haven, kiddo, let me tell you:
in that moment,
(any moment,)
you were anything but weak.
I promise you with all my heart
that you are and always will be
stronger than all those girls combined.
Because even after just eleven years,
you know a lot more
than a lot of adults out there.
You've been the little guy,
but you stand up for the little guy, too;
and you're honest;
and most importantly,
you never forget to say "I love you."

And Haven, just remember:
no matter what anybody
tries to etch into your self-esteem,
you are not weak.
You are lionhearted, which also means
that sometimes people will
underestimate you
because of how gentle you are.

But don't ever apologize for that.
They don't call the lion the King of the Sahara for nothing.