Grandma would smack my hand
Gently
She meant well and I'd feel guilty
Lessons she'd learned passed to me
The lore solidified this importance
A compromise? To the salon!

I'd pick at my nail polish
A compromise from the worst?
Chipping and scraping them bare
Until they were ugly
Back to boy hands

Tomorrow could be life changing
Yet I'd face it without rest
Will or would?
Fine, I'll stop picking.

Missouri
I'll awaken myself to avoid bearing witness
The ex of my first became the rebound of my last
No ******* way

You're scared but I'll guide you
Grasp my trembling hand
Confidence is its most intangible
Yet here I feel my tallest

Suction and pressure pulling my finger
Yes, baby, I felt the quiver
Don't sit up, stay there
That was all I needed

you make it look effortless
containing my envy
knowing I wouldn't prefer your method.
wishing for once, though
mine felt true

Shower suddenly lava
Not even a metaphor at this point
Orange carpets I should learn
And go to the dermatologist

All he wanted
Was to feel the pages against his fingers
Engulf his mind in something new
Or old perhaps, different.
Everything bled together, the pages are now muddied
Dedications confused with conclusion

Off we go, to the streets to find distraction
Anything beats dreaded solitude
When did this begin?
Between The Box Car Children and Jung