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Tori Barnes Jul 2018
a year in review
I reread all my haikus
there's less about you
Tori Barnes Jul 2018
down on my knees again, sweaty hands folded on my bed
praying to a power that may not exist

this time, like every time before
"am I being heard?"
or am I just nineteen and crazy
exchanging words with the air
I resent for filling my lungs
and keeping me alive
Tori Barnes Jul 2018
a souvlaki of
secret beaches, white walls, and
ignoring the clock
Tori Barnes Jul 2018
Two granola bars in
ten minutes on the bus
sitting next to a stranger
not shy to point out
I'm not using the TV

I'm so desperate for human interaction
that I take the criticism with a smile.

I ask the attendant if he has
a video of Joey and I eating
cheesesteak bagels on his pickup bed
in a Walmart parking lot,
or of Shannon port de bra-ing in ballet.
Maybe an audio clip of Kelly
repeating the words "my pretty girl"
until I fall asleep.

He says that all he has is ***** Dancing,
her favourite movie. I guess that will have to do.
Tori Barnes Jul 2018
"This year, I got you
a reminder of all the
time wasted on me."
When you haven't talked to that toxic person in a long time and you're finally starting to feel better and then for your birthday, their present to you is ruining your day?

That's what this is about.
Tori Barnes Jul 2018
I’m the poster child for
a creature of habit
filling my water before
brushing my teeth before
setting my alarm before
I turn out the light and get my rest before
I buy white socks in packs of 6
from the checkout line in Rite Aid
because I caved while getting tampons
and my old ones were looking a little grey
ooh, grab that milky way too

shove it in the trunk
forget about the candy bar because I’m late
let it melt as I speed
to my old high school
drop my sister off at the door
so she doesn’t have to walk
then U-turn, left, right
into your driveway because
that’s what I always use to do
and routines don’t break
as easily as spirits and bones
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