Ouija Board"Ouija Board"Of all the times I imagined making contact,this was never what saw. Not on the other side.It feels like seventh grade in more ways than one.First, there's the spelling test. And then the board itself,still made by Parker Brothers, kept in a box in a girl's closet,and pulled out for events like post-homecoming-dance-sleepover.Back then we would call for a distant cousin who'd diedin a car wreck, or a beloved member of the Twenty Seven Club.We feigned fear and giggled and that's what I'm looking at now.My barely present fingers to guide the planchette. These girls --I do not know them, nor why they called me. I spell out W-H-Yand P-L-E-A-S-E, but they only want to know about their crushes. As if being dead affords me any knowledge at all.
MirrorIt helps when you cover up with makeup,because you feel your too ugly not to.To help when you think something is stuck in your teeth,because mom's cooking always seems to.To help when you're taking a picture of yourself,because no pictures should come out blurry and ugly.And yet it doesn't help me see who I am.It doesn't help if I look into that mirror,To check and see if I'm still awake,If I'm still alive.Or am I daydreaming again?Lying in my own world of nothingness.Where nothing has to make sense,Thus there must be nothing.This thing that I throw down at the ground,Shattering it to pieces,Because it showed a cracked reflection,Of myself.It wasn't like the time that I didn't look in the mirror,While taking a picture.The picture came out blurry and unclear.But it was as if I weren't doing anything wrong,To make anything bad happen.And yet for some reason, It is whenever I look in a mirror that I get a glimpse of who I really must be,and realize that the ima
Feeling Painful AssumptionsI came to a conclusion, as you hide under an umbrella in the rain,However your assumptions of me is wrong, despite the logic slain,Cars collide; I stare at the impact,I don't feel the pain, for I stand intact?I notice the distance between a father and his sons' hand,I don't feel the pain, for I still stand?A mother runs towards her struggling kid in the water,I don't feel the pain, for I have no son or daughter?An aged figure breathes slowly as he choose to hide,I don't feel the pain, for I still have time on my side?A child discovers Santa is a lie,I don't feel the pain, for with innocence I waved goodbye?A person reads a bible and challenges what science did leave,I don't feel the pain, for in a god I don't believe?A patient battles for life, battles their health,I don't feel the pain, for with well being I have wealth?Death, trauma, hunger or an infection,I don't feel the pain, for I have my infection?I came to a conclusion, as you hide under an umbrella in the rai
SheSheMy friend is not just a "she".My friend is She.With a capital S.Because She is amazing.She's funny,She's sweet.She's random.She's nerdy.She's one of my best friends.I laugh with Her.I dry Her tears.I sing (loudly and badly) Her.And I think I might love Her.What's not to love?She's beautiful.She's charming.And She's perfect for me.I wish I could tell Her how I feel.But I can't.I'm not even sure if She knows I'm bi.So I have to settle for writing down my feelings in a crappy Hello Kitty notebook.(Seriously, the thing cost two bucks.)Maybe someday I'll show this poem to Her.Maybe someday I'll tell Her how I feel.But for now,this will have to do.