Category: Poetry

i am
sitting,
watching
this girl
i know tie her
hair
into a knot
to keep
it
off her neck,
and
the girl is me

i watch you through the corner of my eye as you watch my hand through the corner of yours, you note its position: right of my leg with nothing in the way of your hand.  as if my hand has eyes that see you, you look away. you allow your eyes to rest on my hand. again, you look away.  you allow your eyes to rest on my hand again. you look away.  i watch you through the corner of my eye as you watch my hand through the corner of yours, you note its position: right of my leg under your hand.

crunching leaves
die screamingly under my feet
emerging
(my body)
from under unkown tunnels
solemn girl
in your favorite coat
finding your memory
as her hand rests
in her glove.

with each new pipe dream
of new places and parks with you
i drift into my own solitude
and the insistent
“crunch, crunch, crunch”
echoes stories
about us

fall asleep comfortably,
wrapped up in things we hardly know:
alcohol and
each other…
did you guess
what rolled around my head?

i want to see you because
i don’t want to see you because
you want to see me because
you don’t want to see me because
i want to see you because
you want to see me because
i don’t want to see you because
i want to see you because
i want to see you because
you don’t want to see me.

i wake up
?? longing for you
i spend
?? one.twofive hours waiting for you
?? because last night,
i felt so close
?? to you.

proximity,
? that i’ve longed for
? for a long time
? because it just hasn’t felt the same
? since i got back

until on the phone with you
? i heard your voice
? and you sounded familiar
? for the first time
? in a while.

i called tonight
? to make those plans i promised you
? to see if you’d come watch stars with me
? because the stars
? seemed so beautiful
? but lacked a certain boy
? whose hand i liked to hold.

you never warned me,
? “jess, i’ll try to push you away:
?? but stay.”
?? and i want nothing but to
?? cling to you.

you only hear what you want to hear
?? no matter what words i say

there comes a point on the drive to my dorm where it stops being the drive to your apartment as well. i keep driving through the intersection and realize it at 21st street. thinking, but so many nights with him were nights at home and i realize that i wish you were my boyfriend. from that wish, these problems stem. but some other girl is in your bed tonight. and i keep wondering ifyou’re wearing clothes:

give me three reasons not to…

his eyes
question
whether his eyes are
or are not

my stomach
frets
whether i am
or am not

the switch
rests
so depressed
not manic

words
hammer
my brain
to the ground

i
want
to crush
your thoughts
to save myself.

a passenger,
on a plane,
flying over such great heights
and you, a field below
through the windows
(smoke and clouds)
i barely noticed.

then,

the rested,
on a couch,
spinning through so much small talk
and you, proximal
through my insecurity
(downcast eyes and shy smiles)
i realized something.

later,

in a haze,
on a floor,
wanting only to be near you
and you, a different room
through my high
(ups and downs)
i sought you.

then,

sleeping,
on a couch,
dreaming while contorted
and i, seated
through book words
(pages and paragraphs)
i watched you.

finally,

feelings,
in a poem,
riding to museums
and you, not with me
through penmanship
(crossed t’s and dotted i’s)
i discovered you.

(when the phone rang,
it contained your voice,
and i was curious,
yet satisfied.)

a passenger,
on a plane,
flying over such great heights
and you, a field below
through the windows
(smoke and clouds)
i barely noticed.

then,

the rested,
on a couch,
spinning through so much small talk
and you, proximal
through my insecurity
(downcast eyes and shy smiles)
i realized something.

later,

in a haze,
on a floor,
wanting only to be near you
and you, a different room
through my high
(ups and downs)
i sought you.

then,

sleeping,
on a couch,
dreaming while contorted
and i, seated
through book words
(pages and paragraphs)
i watched you.

finally,

feelings,
in a poem,
riding to museums
and you, not with me
through penmanship
(crossed t’s and dotted i’s)
i discovered you.

(when the phone rang,
it contained your voice,
and i was curious,
yet satisfied.)