did you know
blood
is bright red
if it seeps
from the skin?

i quite enjoy it.

why don't
you want
to hang out with me
she says
jokingly
knowing she wouldn't want
to hang out
with herself

If the water sweeps
the way song does
and I greet the water
with hesitance,
but yet,
get so swept up
that I neglect
to disrobe,
is it the fault of the water,
that I
forgot its power?

Perhaps immersion
was my intent,
and so I went quietly,
after echoing, to you,
the virtue that is among us
but was so overwhelming to me
that I could not bear
to shed my clothes
to keep afloat.

I tried to get
a library card
tonight.

For a bit of back story
(not that anyone
asked for it)
I had a tough
few
years.

And I moved away
and then back
and then away
and then back
and then away
again
and then
back
and that's
where I am.

So tonight
I tried to get
a library card.

They told me
to bring along
a letter, addressed
to my current address,
and my identification
card.

So I did.

I brought along a letter,
addressed to me,
from The Community College
of Philadelphia,
letting me know
I was admitted to their
honors program
based on my grades.

(I had taken the letter off the wall,
where my little brother
hung it up,
because all of the other siblings
had achievements hanging
on the fridge,
and he didn't want me
to feel
left out.)

So I went to the library,
with my honors letter
from The Community College
of Philadelphia,
and I asked them
for a Library Card.

They glanced at
the letter,
and said
nothing.

And they didn't even ask
for my identification card
(which would have had a different
address, a way to indicate
I didn't live my whole life
in a bubble
in one house
on one street).

And they entered my name
into the system.

And it turns out,
I'm still there,
in the system.

And I owe
Twenty One Dollars,
owed from
Two Thousand Eleven.



And then I left
and I went to a bar
and I drank.

Because if the public library
of the suburbs of Philadelphia
can't forgive me
for my sins,
why should I?

it's like
no one likes
me
so why should
i like
myself

It is
a nor'easter, and
I watch as
the heavy raindrops fall
and the icy winds
turn them into
snow
before they hit
the ground,
and accumulate
like a hurricane
that they did not wish
to be a part of,
and yet, they're stuck
in a mountain of snow
they did not know
was coming
and had no way
to escape it
so now they are stuck
in a snow bank and
they must wait
until everything
melts
and they must melt
with it
and no one will ever know
they were here
and they did not wish
to be a part
of the storm,
they did  not wish
to be destructive,
they did not wish
to ruin
everyone
else's
day,
they just were

and

they are sorry
for
existing.

Buzzed, I meander
to the front porch, waiting
for my ride
to pick me up.
My mother, coming in
from gardening, hands me
a freshly picked
bundle of lilacs.
"Here," she laughs,
friendly,
"I bet these smell better
than cigarette smoke."

Laughing, I take them
and agree,
not wanting her
to hang around
and smell more
than cigarettes.

My ride comes quickly.

And when I return,
a half hour later,
the lilac buds are closed,
wilted in the absence
of a bush to grow on
or a vase to dwell in.

Who knew flowers
could die
so quickly.

I wanted to put them
in water.