I was fine before I met you

I was broken, but fine...

I was lost and uncertain,

...But my heart was still m i n e

I was free before I met you

I was broken but free

All alone with a clear view

But now, you're all I see..

HEY, wait a minute

No, you can't do this to me, wait a minute

No, that's not f a i r...hey, wait a minute

You're on me like jewelry,

I really liked you, now i'm so scared!

Monday
Oh how I dread you
Can you just go away for one more day

Tuesday
You could be anything or nothing at all
You're just Tuesday

Wednesday
**** DAY
I finally get to look forward to the weekend

Thursday
The day before Friday
Anything could happen, but it wouldn't count

Friday
The most annoying day because of Rebecca Black
But it means we have 2 days of no *******

Saturday
Thank you for no school
But sadly you go by too fast

Sunday
Ruined because you know tomorrow is Monday
The one day I remember to do my homework

the bell jingles as she steps into the holiday stationstore
on the corner of two discarded streets, signs too battered to read
there was free hot chocolate on tuesdays
it was always a little too sweet
the cream-colored tile is stained by thousands of half-cleaned messes
the faint squeak of the roller grill complimenting
cheesy pop music
bright packages scream brand names she never buys
she picks a cup, the smallest size
and fills it
ignoring the drips of pumpkin spice on the counter,
left by a hurried predecessor
she adds cream
she doesn't think about the calories
she doesn't think about what her friends are up to
she doesn't think about how much she hates hearing this **** song
she thinks about grabbing a snickers for the road
shredded black combat boots thump to the register
she sets her snickers bar on the counter
paying the cashier (jeremy) with a crumpled dollar bill
his gray eyes brim with something like pity, like they do every week
she pretends not to see
he says something
she pretends not to hear
he says something else
she walks out
icy rain makes her pull her hood tighter
she sips the cocoa
it always was a little too sweet

I can see my breath
And for some reason
That frightens me
For some reason
I'm very frightened
By everything today
I'm frightened
By my own thoughts
By my own existence
Just by being alone
And I don't know
If that's normal
I don't know
If people understand
What that's like
To be afraid
Of the mind
You live in
To be afraid
Of the life
You were born in
But it's scary
And I don't like it
I don't like
Seeing my breath
I don't like
Seeing my veins
I don't like
Feeling my pulse
As I live my scared life
Because I'm truly frightened
By everything in my mind
And I don't know how to stop it
I don't know how to change it
I don't know what to do
And that scares me

My legs shake
And quake
As I feel
Our hearts beat
In tandem
Chests pressed together
Hearts pounding
To the same rhythm
As the music plays
In the dimly lit room
With the hibiscus candle off to the side
Lavender incense in the corner
Your favorite scents
String lights above us
Nothing in between us
Except our beating hearts
Keeping in time
With Florence
While she sings
About dog days and wrecked ships
My gold nails running down
The sweat on your back
Pressing you against me
To keep our hearts
Together

Minnehaha Park is hot in the summer
Even by the water
Who knew it would be so hot
Even down by the water?
But all of it is hot

And there are acorns everywhere
Scattered on the ground
Below our butts as we try to sit
And have a little picnic
On a brightly checkered blanket
Between two tall trees
That tower above us
And grant us shade
While pelting acorns down
Into our cheese and crackers

And fancy rosé wine
Whatever that means
I thought wine was wine
But I guess they have personalities
Like people
Like couples
Some things pair well together
Like my crisp pineapple and cheap ******' pizza
Or your stinky blue cheese and weird cookie-like *******
Like us

And the cheese sits on a green marble slab
Elegant as ****
Because that's just who you are
But that marble slab sits on top of a pizza box
Simple as ****
Because that's just who I am
And we pair well
On this hot *** summer day
While we drink rosé
And "I love you" is all we say
Because sometimes we don't have to say anything
We're okay without words
In the middle of a park
On a hot *** summer day

There are conversations in which my mental frame leaves the
                               parameters of my body.

No longer can I fathom the concept of ‘being in love’
        I witness dates
        and
        feel as an apprentice of such a trade might
        an inadequacy to replicate the models of those before me

Gone are my indefinite moments of sanity
        Childhood is laced in linens of silk
        Soft-spoken words
        and
        Finely crafted spontaneity lacking responsibility

Ceaseless are the times in which I must conceal the thoughts I abhor
        Depravity seems to chain my soul
        which leads to
        a Resolution in pixelation
        due to
       a visual handicap which has left my eye blind to choosing right

My friends make me happy
        but as a glass transforms back-&-forth between half-empty &
        half-full
        one glance across our wooden dinner is all it takes
        for
My thoughts to liquidate into bars of gold
Telling myself I must exchange their conversation for my motivation
        heavy on the mind
        light keystrokes

Once i reawaken at 1 A.M. from my conscious-coma
i ask myself
What good is it?
        To be thoughtful
        Yet have no action
What good is it?
        To fantasize
        Yet refuse your own inclination for renovation
What good is it?
        To be dramatic
        Yet have no one at your performance

I do understand what it means to ‘be’

        Watching Tuesday suns burn in loops of ongoing weeks
                              -    lacking peaks    -
        As I continue to lay under clothes line
        Wrapped in a melody of melancholy

But I do not understand what it means to be ‘me’

        My mind feels as a lemon candy might,
        sour at first bite -
        hollow on the inside, then gone
        Without ever truly knowing what it tastes like.

Original:
Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Our version:
Monday’s child will be a superhero – ABIGAIL
Tuesday’s child never gets a zero – JULIA
Wednesday’s child loves to smile – ASHLEY
Thursday’s child is kinda wild –
Friday’s child is so nice and likes to play –
Saturday’s child is true and won’t betray –
And the child born on Sunday, so happy, –
Is an angel with a great personality. –