Today, I accidentally spoke to a stranger.
Seated at the round table with my laptop,
I stared at a couple speaking my language.
He caught me looking, and seemed confused.
I was embarrassed for staring
so I explained, "I understood them-
there aren't many other speakers that I know,"
and quickly looked back down.
And the feeling of regret welled up inside me.
It was far too late.
I can see him staring at me, now.
Burning holes into the back of my screen.
For a second I thought he might have been mute.
Why stare at me so hard without uttering a word?
I'm not wearing anything particularly interesting.
He must know that I see him in my peripherals.
What if he really is mute?
Maybe he needs some help?
Should I look up? I can't.
Why not? Because that would mean
I'd have to speak more.
You shouldn't have spoken at all.
I was embarrassed for staring.
He should be embarrassed for staring, too.
I hope I didn't "speak his language."
He probably isn't even looking at you.
We're the only ones at this table.
He keeps looking up from his book.
Maybe if I look at him quickly I'll know if he's looking
at the empty billboard behind me instead.
I just looked up.
He's looking at me.
And not a word was exchanged.
Now this is that much more awkward,
I'll never look up again.
I'll just pack my things.
And never speak to strangers again.
But wait...
what if he knows me?
What if he's waiting for me to recognize him?
I don't know him, I'm sure.
He won't stop staring.
I close my laptop
and see my motley stickers.
Some with writing, some with pictures.
Sigh of relief.
Just my stickers.
I'd look, too.
Packed it away
and went to class.
How silly was I, just then?
But I still won't speak to strangers, again.

Courageous.
I go through stages.
I think about all I could do.
I am Courageous.

Afraid.
I contemplate.
I think about all that could go wrong.
I am afraid.

Brave.
I will do all that I crave.
I believe in myself.
I feel brave.

Fear.
It creeps up, whilst fulfilments of my dreams are near.
The possible becomes impossible.
I feel fear.

Fear, when brave,
Then feeling afraid,
All the stages, the rages - The angst of changes.
When I feel Courageous.

i went for a run today and i couldn't catch my breath
and for some reason that's been happening often now.
it's like you only get so many breaths
and maybe i just don't have that many left.

i'm writing this poem right now and i'm using the font
that reminds me of your name.  it's not a pretty font,
but if you were a font, you wouldn't be pretty either.

i've been having trouble waking up in the morning.
my bedroom is too cold for me to jump out of bed.
i put socks on my feet to keep in the hear,
but when i wake up, the socks are lost in my sheets.

i get kind of nervous when i hear your name,
because this time last year, i didn't even know your name,
or who you were.

i have this weird bruise on my knee and i don't know where it came from.
it's dark purple and red and i'm worried.
i don't think i'd be able to handle losing my health,
but i kind of wonder how much i ever had it.

after june, i'll probably never see you again,
and you'll never think of me again.
i just wish you'd think of me, once.

sometimes during class i take my pulse
just to make sure it's still there.
it always is, and the i feel disgusted at myself
for wishing it wasn't.

You wear yourself in disarray
A peculiarity
From default state
Particular
In daily motion
Stillness
And troubled mind.

On days I feel like giving up
I would pack up my things
And bring some money
To see the world.

Sometimes it's the park right around the corner,
Or the park in another town,
Or the beach at my hometown,
Or away to the another country
Just to feel like a new person.

No worries,
No problems,
Nothing to think of
Besides my rest.

But,
Does it really work?

Or

Am I just running away from it,
Thinking that if I go on this escape
I'll find a way
But usually
It is just a break.