and wishing II

 (poem format)

It started with a love letter,

the destiny of an almost-summers day,

a boy and a girl too different at a time when

differences made all the world of change,

high school's end and

a promise a girl made to herself and

a simple white paper. 

Blank, and then, no longer.

She flew into her life,

making up,

it later seemed,

for years of lack of living. 

She had been stony silent, stone that

smiled sometimes and felt and whispered things at night,

things she desperately craved for others to hear, for him to hear, but alas,

the stone was all they saw, was all he saw,

and she grew

and she flew out of it. 

Three wishes on a night where

— were the stars clear,

were the clouds white,

did the moon shine through and

was it full and

I don't know—

a basketball in her hands, she bounced it

angrily onto the floor

and demanded from God that he

help her

that he change her and make her beautiful and make her bright and bigger,

bigger than the acne face girl with duct tape covering

her mouth that she saw—

she knew she did—when she looked in the mirror
and then there was change and then there was life

and then there was beauty written into

the lines of her face. 

A love note,

a basketball-night wish, a few

nightmares and dreams

later and she had fallen in love again and this time... this time

there was no six year dormant love note

delivered in

disguised envelope

by shaking hand. 

Russian voice and

Russian face and

she kept this in her head, even after it

ended in tears and bodies slipping over and out of one another and art class.  And repeat.  Russian voice and

Russian face and

love from afar, it seemed like a

quadrilateral.  Point one: 

LF (Love from Afar). 

Point two:  Russian. 

Point three:  LF.  Point four:

Russian. 

Connect the dots

and what do you get! 

That's right, all together class!
Stony student, mouth closed,

doesn't want to cooperate.
I wish I were

that student.
Like

you, you

who sits in class, organized like a

Facebook page, organized by

desires and friends and

consecutive posts, right along with

Wenselous Ratking Smith Who Looks Like

Orlando Bloom, and below She

Is Attending Chabad's Purim Party. 

You were never more than that, though.  Just a

sitting boy

in a room with other students,

noticed by your rough hair

and your big Russian lips.  A week and she is

in love. 

She's repeating old cycles,

old habits,

improving on the things that were already

good, taking away from those

hateful things,

making them worse. 

A word vomit mouth is better than other types of vomit

but they'll kick me out for that.

Word vomit doesn't get you kicked out of school but it does pull the plug on desire and quaintness and too bad I'm too human for my own good

you'll never realize what I used to be but alas, as a song

I read

puts it vaguely like this: 

I won't change for you because

I'm good and

I deserve more than someone who doesn't like this Me. 

I wish I could remember the

eloquence in those lyrical words but it wouldn't produce this blunt emotion that 6 30 in the morning

does to a girl that can't sleep.  Defense mechanism of rationalization or not,

it makes me feel better.  This me I've worked so hard to be. 

Anyways, confidence?
Dictionary: confidence;

1.      (noun) She who is beautiful

and she who is bright and bigger, bigger than an

acne face girl.

2.      (verb) The act of removing duct tape from an acne-scared

girl's mouth. 

3.      That shit wish.

Where has it gotten me. 

A pretty face and

many

guys

later,

a sore

head and sore

belly, and

myself,

realizing

there is something nice

about a girl

playing basketball

in the night,

and wishing. 

bounce.  

And in life.

You said there's a place
where it all goes away.
Amongst the clear Japanese sky
floating like tanzaku
emotions morph into wishes and
our bodies rise up.
Hair like wind becomes spirit,
and in life we are spent.
I'm there right now.
Focusing.
On 707.
Dream within limits--soft lines are
safe.
You said there's a place where
bodies are nothing
And I'd like to see this place
Because right now
I am a corpse,
living
breathing physical
walking physical
And I can't decide
where my finger stops
and my touch begins.

eyes down.

Eyes down,
and seeing all around
They want you to speak
yell at you, shake
up your limbs
And sew your mouth to your cheeks,
your tongue to your roof
your heart to your hand.
Give me a sign you say,
with hand out
and heart spasing there
To become like this was what you wanted
It made you a friend like never else
and a lover like naught before
A beating bloody mess is a shining beacon of--
come here--
and taste it. 
Why do you gag, when I hand you my soul
like you begged before,
wanting
for.
I give myself more credit than that and I am right
Don't push your human faults onto me
And don't look at me with those eyes.
Brown hair over sight
life
over right. 

and wishing.

It started with a love letter, the destiny of an almost-summers day, a boy and a girl too different at a time when differences made all the world of change, high school's end, a promise a girl made to herself, and a simple white paper.  Blank, and then, no longer.

She then flew into her life, making up, it later seemed, for years of lack of living.  She had been stony silent, stone that smiled sometimes and felt and whispered things at night, things she desperately craved for others to hear, for him to hear, but alas, the stone was all they saw, was all he saw, and she grew and she flew out of it.  Three wishes on a night where--were the stars clear, were the clouds white, did the moon shine through and was it full and I don't know--a basketball in her hands, she bounced it angrily onto the floor and demanded from God that he help her that he change her and make her beautiful and make her bright and bigger, bigger than the acne face girl with duct tape covering her mouth that she saw--she knew she did-when she looked in the mirror
and then there was change and then there was life and then there was beauty written into the lines of her face. 

A love note, a basketball-night wish, a few nightmares and dreams later and she had fallen in love again and this time... this time there was no six year dormant love note delivered in disguised envelope by shaking hand.  Russian voice and Russian face and she kept this in her head, even after it ended in tears and bodies slipping over and out of one another and art class.  And repeat.  Russian voice and Russian face and love from afar, it seemed like a quadrilateral.  Point one:  LF (Love from Afar).  Point two:  Russian.  Point three:  LF.  Point four: Russian.  Connect the dots and what do you get!  That's right, all together class!

Stony student, mouth closed, doesn't want to cooperate.
I wish I were that student.

Like you, you who sits in class, organized like a facebook page, organized by desires and friends and consecutive posts, right along with Wenselous Ratking Smith Who Looks Like Orlando Bloom, and below Mimi Is Attending Chabad's Purim Party.  You were never more than that, though.  Just a sitting boy in a room with other students, noticed by your rough hair and your big Russian lips.  A week and Mimi is in love.  She's repeating old cycles, old habits, improving on the things that were already good, taking away from those hateful things, making them worse.  A word vomit mouth is better than other types of vomit but they'll kick me out for that. Word vomit doesn't get you kicked out of school but it does pull the plug on desire and quaintness and too bad I'm too human for my own good...

...and you'll never realize what I used to be but alas, as a song I read puts it vaguely like this:  I won't change for you because I'm good and I deserve more than someone who doesn't like this Me.  I wish I could remember the eloquence in those lyrical words but it wouldn't produce this blunt emotion that 6 30 in the morning does to a girl that can't sleep.  Defense mechanism of rationalization or not, it makes me feel better.  This me I've worked so hard to be. 

Anyways, confidence?
Dictionary: confidence; 1. (noun) She who is beautiful and she who is bright and bigger, bigger than an acne face girl. 2. (verb) The act of removing duct tape from an acne-scared girl's mouth. 

3. That shit wish.
Where has it gotten me.  A pretty face and many guys later, a sore head and sore belly, and myself, realizing there is something nice about a girl playing basketball in the night, and wishing. 

bounce.