I leave in two weeks. 12 days, actually. Holy crap. TWELVE DAYS. That can't be right. Twelve days. I'm 17 years old, I'm a high school drop out, and I'm leaving home in twelve days. And I still have nothing packed, have only gone through two boxes of books (that's out of 15, my friend), and....and...I don't even need an and, do I? I know that leaving home is an important step, and though I don't think I'm ready, I'm pretty sure that now is just as good as time as any. There's nothing left to do here. As it is, I'm just staying at home, working a little, but not doing much. I move, I start gaining my residency, I start going to college, I become a teacher, that's something. My dreams will never just happen if I stay at home.
But twelve days? That makes me want to stay at home, makes me want to find my little sister and tickle her and read to her, makes me want to chase the cats and then dangle lunch meat in front of them (they do tricks to write home about, I tell you!). It makes me suddenly not want to leave.
Most awful of all? I'm so stressed I can't even write poetry. Le SIGH.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
my cup runneth over with words; they become poetry
i have a photo album
sitting on my dresser
it is filled with love
my Lost Boys and Girls,
smiling at up at the camera
and me, as I walk away.
is this what life is?
giving love and then,
leaving, with one last smile,
a hug, muttered "I love you?"
that's okay, then.
these pictures of my TJ and Danielle,
Maria and Kevin,
all I have left of them,
it is enough to know i loved them and they smiled
back at me, my broken children, born to be left behind
and beautiful.
we humankind
we put up so many shells.
first the shell of our clothes, than our body,
our muscles, our fat,
the red of our blood, coursing through thick veins,
but all this cannot cover our center,
not our heart or our minds
but our spirits, hidden safe inside.
let down the walls.
lay yourself bare.
we do not touch skin to skin,
flesh to flesh,
but truth to truth,
love to love to love to love,
and spirit to spirit.
sitting on my dresser
it is filled with love
my Lost Boys and Girls,
smiling at up at the camera
and me, as I walk away.
is this what life is?
giving love and then,
leaving, with one last smile,
a hug, muttered "I love you?"
that's okay, then.
these pictures of my TJ and Danielle,
Maria and Kevin,
all I have left of them,
it is enough to know i loved them and they smiled
back at me, my broken children, born to be left behind
and beautiful.
we humankind
we put up so many shells.
first the shell of our clothes, than our body,
our muscles, our fat,
the red of our blood, coursing through thick veins,
but all this cannot cover our center,
not our heart or our minds
but our spirits, hidden safe inside.
let down the walls.
lay yourself bare.
we do not touch skin to skin,
flesh to flesh,
but truth to truth,
love to love to love to love,
and spirit to spirit.
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