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Megan Hundley  Jan 2012
citrus
Megan Hundley Jan 2012
citrus

it smells like
citrus
in this room

left in the trash
all twisted
torn
orange

did it taste
bitter?
too ripe. was it
too old?

burned
I bet
when the juice hit your
small cuts. small cuts
almost healed- but it still had to
hurt. just a bit
just a bit?

but that was awhile ago
from the looks of it
wedged down there
in the stupid trash

that doesn't matter
ok?
no one feels bad about
the action of peeling
an orange
nobigdeal

I was just saying that
this room
(which was always too small)
still carries the
hint
of
citrus
Sam  Oct 2014
Untitled
Sam Oct 2014
Every time I talk about writing-
My writing, my
Frivolous scribblings-in a
Negative light, you tell me,
"You have to write 200 bad poems
Before you can write a good one."
And I have not known you
Long enough to understand the
Nuances of your speech but
I have learned, quickly, that you
Are poetry
Now, this might sound cliche but what I mean is
That when I see you with your bony knees and
Isaac Newton hair my heart
Dips backward in between my ribs the
Fluid motion of your mouth flipping into a grin is a
Chain reaction to my own smile your
Piano fingers stained with ink or paint or dirt caked in life,
In adventures, are their own language and the way you move
Them when you speak makes a dance, a
Twisty tango of gyration and gesticulation.
Exhaling clouds of smoke from your lungs, you
Frame your forehead with tobacco laurels
And I don't worship you, no, but I admire you,
In the way that you cultivate goodnaturedness but
Hide behind it
In the way that you discuss bigdeal things in a
Nobigdeal way
If you wonder why I like you, it's because you are
Honest in a way that is raw and I've never
Felt someone cut me in two with just a gaze.
You are nervous energy and social anxiety and bred to live in nature.
You are suave in a lanky way and still unsure of yourself.
You are a star collapsing in on itself blazing so bright before you
Burn out.
And I want that.
I want that easiness and integrity and
Dancingontablesbecausewhynot and
Singing a song you don't know the words to in a rubberduck voice.
And I want you.
I want you to want me, to
Want to understand my nuances and quirks and hopes and fears and
Why I cringe inside a body that I never belonged to.
I want your poetry for myself.
So if I have to write 200 bad poems before I write 1 good one,
Regardless of where it falls-and where I fall-
This one is for you.
*I'm pretty sure the quote comes from Billy Collins, but not positive* I have a lot of feelings

— The End —