Wash your hands before leaving.
Every afternoon the television would have a woman in tears
Spanish dialogue, pastel colored sets
Tongue in cheek, modern romance sipping iced tea by the pool
The antagonist wearing a suit and three rings on each finger
Pause.
Soap bars are made of fat, the grease found in
Breakfast diners and sweat off a teenagers face
The lipids turning gelatinous and all I can think of is
Jell-o; the strange colored dessert that doesn’t taste like anything real
My hands begin to itch and I stand up
Wash your hands before leaving.
My hands have become open desert, dry animosity
The skin around the knuckles is delicate, one clench of a fist
I am sure that it will tear, like the skirt of a girl I once knew
But there are creatures lurking everywhere
In the handle of the bathroom door, in the shake of another hand
In the touch of a frame, in the grip of a key
Wash your hands before leaving.
The scattered murmurs on the screen remind me its 5p.m
The women are arguing with their manicured hands
Their eyes all having the same spidery lashes, spiders
I feel insects crawling under my bones
Termites clipping at my heels as I sit in this couch of horrors
I didn’t know the last time it had been washed
It smelled of the 1970’s and I want to go home
The babysitter is on the other chair reclined
Snoring, letting out bacteria through her mouth
At 8 years old I should be on the floor with a coloring book
My lips are dry, the screen is too bright, I can feel the filth everywhere I turn
So I stay
I hear the door knock and it’s my mother picking me up after work
My lungs sigh of relief
Time to go
But first
let me wash my hands before I leave

I write when my chest gets tight and it feels like I can’t breathe
And for (what feels like eternity) everything I’ve worked so hard to keep secret comes

crashing.
down.

Imagine being in a wave pool, going deeper than you knew you should and getting knocked under,
and considering the possibility

maybe

that you might not come back up for air;
now imagine that feeling everytime you open your eyes.


Poetry about happiness?

I’m sorry, I can’t help you there.

1
2
3
4
5

I count things in 5’s

one cat
two cat
three cat
hula hoop
tote bag

My notes are organized Cornell style
but it can’t fill the void you left.

Light switch
one slipper
two slippers
lotion
candle

I’ve got my life organized down to the the minutes
but you aren’t in any of them.

Long distance.
We’ll see.

I need to go to the store,
eggs
cheese, why do we always run out of cheese?

I texted my best friend 3 hours ago, where is she at?
Good thing I have her location.

I didn’t really understand a single thing in math class today,
but this is college algebra and trig, I go to a good college I should be able to pass

without. help.

You used to be smart and not this stupid. What made you this stupid.
How did YOU even get into this school? You’re too stupid.

You shouldn’t have worn that dress that night. And those heels?
Those were some pretty slutty heels.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking either,

milk,

tortilla shells,

canned corn,

You could just step out in front of this semi truck, it would be quick,

cream cheese,

tea,

honey

Others would care, but honestly at this point, would you?
I mean look at you, you’re a mess.

eggs,

cheese, why do we always run out of cheese?

Hearing the toaster pop up and realizing you've been spinning in circles the whole time, with no recollection of the time passing,
Saying "f*ck" while you do the dishes or vacuum because apparently that's a trigger for you,
And don't you dare think about time because you'll spend all of it flailing your arms and hyperventilating,
Hoping you're not annoying when you click your tongue over and over,
And feeling the tickle in your arms hoping they won't judge you for twisting your hand three times,
What the hell do I have? Is it OCD, ADD, or is it turrets?
A mixture of all maybe? I don't know but I need some rest.

I miss her, yet I cannot forget her.
Like echoes of a time long gone.
Silence is my reality.
Try as I might she still holds my mind tight.
Is it her fault for being so captivating?
Maybe it is my own doing, for loving her too deeply.
I feel lost in a lake of dreams.
Dreams haunted with her presence, and nightmares filled with her absence.
She has forgotten me.
Now I am the only scribe left to keep our memory alive. So I write on.
I will not forget these memories, nor will I stop dreaming of a fantasy no longer attainable.
I will forever chase these memories of a dream long gone.

How much easier it would have been
if I had not been born but left unknown and unseen,
for I have known only tragedy and despair
and now I'm broken beyond repair.

I didn't miss you right away.
After you left i was sad, yes,
but i knew i didn't miss you.
I was thinking positively about the future
and after how bad you ruined me
i thought there was no way i could miss you.
I was wrong.
About two weeks after you left
you never called
you never texted.
I think i expected one of them
and i clung to that,
so thats why i didn't miss you.
But now that i haven't heard from you
i know its real.
You're gone.
And **** do i miss you.
I miss your smell
I miss the way you would rub
my neck when
we were in the car.
And i hope you found someone
to reassure you about your insecurities,
because i know your OCD would always
get to you.
And when you left i asked you
who was going to tell you
your glasses weren't crooked after
you asked for the millionth time.
I told you that you wouldn't have anyone to
hold at 3am to keep you warm.
It's been 12 days since the last time you
held me.
I feel really lost right now because i miss you,
but i know time heals all wounds.
Hopefully one day when I'm driving
through a pretty town
while the sun goes down
i won't think of you.