Poems from My Day (12-7)

oh this is just great.

1:
I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to say out loud what I say to myself.
Mostly,
Though,
I wouldn’t ever trust another person enough
To tell them what I tell myself.
And not have them mock me.
But to say out loud what I only think would seem a violation,
Of me.
And also very insulting.

2:
What do you mean I have to explain to you why I like the glittery dinosaur ornament,
How long have I known you now?
And you tell me I’m cute, with a little shrug and twinkle
That you’ve only had since you were taller than me.
You’re still in that phase of thinking weird is unacceptable.
That’s fine.
I’ll be here when you’re over it.

3:
Things made for clumsy people have to be sturdy
And well designed,
Things made inexpensively,
For poor people
Break just sitting there.
This is why I am not fashionable
I won’t wear something uncomfortable unless it leads to breadsticks.

4:
Dear Pasta Lady,
I’m at another life post.
I’m having to change jobs, after paying my own insurance,
And writing calculated half-penny checks.
But I wish I could call you and give you a check up.
I want to hear you be proud, and mean it,
Even though I know you already are.
I want to hear it,
Like I want to hear the story of my birth,
Straight from my Mom,
Even though I have it memorized.

5:
I am so scared of becoming an alcoholic
But also of being scared of alcohol
And I’m scared of not being like my mother
But I’m frightened of being dependent,
And losing control
And changing.

6:
This one is for you.
Yep.
You.
I know you’re reading this.

7:
You’ve ruined my harmonica introduction of my favorite weepy song.
This is terrible.

8:
I put Christmas lights around my window in the hope it will keep the cold out.
I’m wearing a sweater over a sweater. I’m still cold.
I’m like David when he was dying and he couldn’t get enough virgins to keep him warm.
Cold in my soul.
True in more than one way, my old-friends would say.

9:
Hello old pattern, friend,
I haven’t seen you in a while, but maybe I never left.
Me and you, and my best friend, we’ve all started this all over again,
And it’ll end the same, all again.
But I don’t mind, I didn’t mind the first time, really.
At least something’s moving.

10:
Sometimes that’s all it takes you know,
One person, to make me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it,
And my belly laughs, and I laugh.
Suddenly I don’t mind being alone, as long as I can laugh without being embarrassed,
Or censured.

11:
I wish I had a tradition for the winter solstice.
I’d like to make one,
But I’m inconstant enough.
I’d like to dance with garland under the moon,
Or sing a song out a third-story window,
Or have something to mark the passing of time.

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