Samuel walked up to his boss
and demanded in no uncertain terms:
"You'd best give me a pay rise -
you might want to know
3 companies are after me"

"Wow," said Samuel's boss
deeply impressed. "Which companies?"

"Oh," came Samuel's swift reply
*"The telephone,  electricity
and water companies"

My mirror's broken.
I want a new one with You've Made It
spelled in lights across the top.

I want the holograms
of tiny clapping hands inlaid
along its sides -
applauding when I give the nod.

I'd like a slight distortion, looking
younger, better kept ideally;
so I see me but
with all this potential in repose.

It should say I Love You somehow -
any time, whatever state,
for simply being there.

I would stare and I would stare
from follicle to freckle, plotting
every facet of the features
glaring back at

mine, mine, mine. I want
to share myself with something.
Let me care completely
for some imperfect reflection.

My mirror isn't cracked or
anything like that it's just I can't
quite catch the little twitches
twinkling my eye.

It may be fun
It may be nice
I'm trying to be nice.

Pull me in
You grab my hands
Look back and see my teeth glint unwillingly

Why don't you see
Why can't you feel it somehow
I know you are not numb.

The grass pinches our feet
You say you know they *****
But can't you hear me?

Glassy fingers
That belong to you
I want to kiss them

Pulling me towards
A big roller coaster
Look at me, boy, look at me.

What?
I said look at me.
We're going to the ride now, tell me later.

You are strapped.
I am strapped to the coaster's seat too.
The contraption starts to whirl…

You know I'm scared
I need
To hold your hand.

What are you saying?
I can't hear you!
Ah, that's right.

You don't hear me.
And I wish I could hold your hand
But you aren't next to me no one is

She is next to you
And
I am not.

You don't hear.
I hear you tilt your head to look at her
I hear your heartbeat go faster

Nice, I am trying to be
To both of you
I hear your fingers land on hers

But her name is also Nice
Like in Italy
I've always tried to be her

And this is not fun
I wish I could pull off the straps
I am trying

I can pull them off.
Get away, from you
Because I love you it will be better this way

The contraption is still on
I am hanging on the edge of the roller coaster
And you have to hear me.

You have to hear me
You have to hear me
**You have to hear--

(Written in 8th Grade)

As I grew up along-side of memories, I realized that my name grew with me; shaping and morphing itself into who I am today. But wouldn’t it be fun to not be me for a single day? Not have the name, Alice? I could be someone smiling bright, maybe Melina. Or might I try on the name Jessie. Nah, too laid back and chill; so I take the name off and put it back on it’s hanger. I could be haughty and proud, with my nose in the air; I could be a Penelope. I window-shop for more names, browsing among all the different personalities. Fern seems fun, friendly and cordial. Or I might stick around and act as a Sam. Boyish? Aw yeah. Just maybe not for me. I’ll be Stella, all book-sharp for a day or I could be a Chloé, exotic and beautiful. Or switch my style into the retro girly Natalie. What would it be, to have the name Katie, just for a day? Zoey, Liana, Stacy, Diane. Isabelle, Marilyn, Delia, Hannah. Maybe give my name an exotic twist, Alyssa? After trying on names of all kind, some just weren’t for me. Too ‘krazy’? Shy? Ecstatic? Cool? Like a huge circus parade with different costumes, the loud gaudy colors blinding me. Like all the different shoes at Aldo’s; sky-high heels, wedges, sandals, boots. I slip out the shoes, I peel off the names. Because for now, I’d like to stay in my own skin; as a plain old Alice.

540

I took my Power in my Hand—
And went against the World—
’Twas not so much as David—had—
But I—was twice as bold—

I aimed by Pebble—but Myself
Was all the one that fell—
Was it Goliath—was too large—
Or was myself—too small?

bye
die
sigh
cry
try
lie