Jul 2014
We share a room. The light from her iPod stopped bugging me after a while.
We took out the bunk bed after we decided to be grown ups.
On a double matteress we gather hours of rest,
Our bodies barely touch or coil together
Just the breathing sounds we make in our sleep states are comforting enough.
When we hear a bump, we consult each other of whether we should leave the room or just go back to bed.
She started asking me to cover for her.
So mom wouldn't know what she was up to.
Mom trusts us as we would hope. And we hardly break that trust.
Life stopped being complicated for me.
It's like it began anew,
Unfolding
Straightening paths
Smoothing the crinkles in each sheet that layover my little body
The bends disappeared, crusted confrontations
Forgotten.
I met him from a great friend of mine. We argued over something silly.
He called me after I explained I was upset.
I beat myself over the dry branches of thick trees
Scolding myself. Insulting myself.
I did nothing but remind myself of my exclusive habits to handsome men.
But he visited me and upon that spree of him skipping class, he was beautiful like the men. So I thought maybe, in the back of my mind, that I could explore him like the others and relieve him and myself of whatever we were clinging to.
He was clinging to something short of sadness. Much like grief.
And he explained that I was good and shouldn't place myself in a damp hole when the sun is capable of more than being bright and warm.
So we spoke and lay together in my bed resisting silly things.
Sitting up together he is ready to leave he says 'I'm glad I skipped class today.'
He kisses me. Telling me that he isnt interested in much else.
My mouth is filled with sweet smells, bitter tastes. This boys limbs quake, heart punching rib bones as fast as man boy can take, his glasses tremble to his skin too. Everything sticks slowly. I can see the ceiling moving. The shadows against its popcorn texture. I can hear my mother clicking her mouse by the computer. He breathes in, pupils enlarge almost as loud as an animals shriek.
I think I twitched.
My sister forgot to make the bed that day.
And I'm glad becaus he doesn't make his bed either.
We took out the bunk bed after we decided to be grown ups.
On a double matteress we gather hours of rest,
Our bodies barely touch or coil together
Just the breathing sounds we make in our sleep states are comforting enough.
When we hear a bump, we consult each other of whether we should leave the room or just go back to bed.
She started asking me to cover for her.
So mom wouldn't know what she was up to.
Mom trusts us as we would hope. And we hardly break that trust.
Life stopped being complicated for me.
It's like it began anew,
Unfolding
Straightening paths
Smoothing the crinkles in each sheet that layover my little body
The bends disappeared, crusted confrontations
Forgotten.
I met him from a great friend of mine. We argued over something silly.
He called me after I explained I was upset.
I beat myself over the dry branches of thick trees
Scolding myself. Insulting myself.
I did nothing but remind myself of my exclusive habits to handsome men.
But he visited me and upon that spree of him skipping class, he was beautiful like the men. So I thought maybe, in the back of my mind, that I could explore him like the others and relieve him and myself of whatever we were clinging to.
He was clinging to something short of sadness. Much like grief.
And he explained that I was good and shouldn't place myself in a damp hole when the sun is capable of more than being bright and warm.
So we spoke and lay together in my bed resisting silly things.
Sitting up together he is ready to leave he says 'I'm glad I skipped class today.'
He kisses me. Telling me that he isnt interested in much else.
My mouth is filled with sweet smells, bitter tastes. This boys limbs quake, heart punching rib bones as fast as man boy can take, his glasses tremble to his skin too. Everything sticks slowly. I can see the ceiling moving. The shadows against its popcorn texture. I can hear my mother clicking her mouse by the computer. He breathes in, pupils enlarge almost as loud as an animals shriek.
I think I twitched.
My sister forgot to make the bed that day.
And I'm glad becaus he doesn't make his bed either.
