In second grade I got
an honorable mention
In the piano state

For those of you who don’t know
This competition has a first place,
I’ve forgotten the name
Runner up
And honorable mention
Below that was a 1
And a 2

I don’t know if
Only a certain number could
Be in each category
But I did know for each age level
There was certainly more than one

Either way, I was excited
Pleased

The next year,
I got a 1

The year after that,
I broke down crying
Thoroughly
Unprepared
And got a 2

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

And no that was not a mis
Type
That was really how it was

I switched piano teachers
And vowed I’d do better this time
But I spent most of my summer
Out of town
And I didn’t get the practice
I needed

The year after
I got a 1

This year,
I’m participating
Once again

And I’m tired
At the monotony of it all

But,
Can I actually
Overcome my laziness and time restrainsts and practice
The amount I need?

Well,
memories,
hemorrhages
well
up from the sticky hole.

One time, I fell and hit my head
three times, three places, once in each:
the cabinet, the sink, the bathtub.

Practice being me by proxy.
Out of my head. Out my head.
Tangible damages,
incorporeal skeins.
Mess? Wreck. Heck,

This time, I stood and cracked
my skull on the cabinet:
Clarity? Is that you?

Practiced being me by proxy,
so so long.
Practiced being me by proxy.
Practiced being me by proxy,
so so long.
Practiced being me by proxy.

Clarity?
Or is this
an actual
hemorrhage?

Well,
Memory,
my sticky hole
is filling up
where the water was ****** by the ground.