One time I felt like I was ice skating on Lake Michigan in a blizzard.
I lost the shoreline forever.
And the grip of fear.
I was out of place like a 14 year old listening to Hejira.
I still feel so in a way.
No gazing at my rear.
I got laid in my hometown and I sneer at my childhood friends like I never loved them.
I’ve been different 20 people since my birth and I feel like I’ve found the one that suits me best.
Like a fuzzy coat in winter, taking meds, healing slowly, **** my ex, I’m skating on Lake Michigan, baggage back in Madison, far from wifi, farther from home, I feel nothing but nipping from the frigidity and tight embrace of freedom.
I skate on into the blizzard and I haven’t seen a winter so winter-like since I rode on a sleigh pulled by my uncle’s car ‘round my beloved apartment complex.
All I see is white.
Like a fresh page of life.
You sow nothing, you get nothing.
Find no weevils in your garden, sweet fruit either.
That’s why I’m leaving y’all to concentrate on what I want and I skate into the nothingness of Lake Michigan, where only frostbite’s capable of breaking my heart.
It’s just a rest stop though.
I’ve yet to rise in love.
I’ll have my pasta date in Paris someday.
I’ll regret wasting my first real kiss with a hookup, I just didn’t wanna die a ******, so I squandered something artificial, boo-*******-hoo, life’s a travelog, put my fuckboys’ names in a catalog, remember what they gave me.
So let me swirl around, draw curvy lines, interlacing hearts.
Privately pretty.
Let me daydream of the day when I feel pretty as to get me some, when I dive into his ***** arms, wrap them round me like a shawl I’ve never worn, but feel like home.
I’m skating on Lake Michigan, left my heart in Madison, en route to Manhattan.
And I’m on the mending route of heart.