Become

maybe
i've got to become comfortable
with not knowing
what to do

Latch

Sometimes
it's so easy
to be open
to say
what's on my mind
and in my heart.
But
I need you
to want to hear.

Scream

I tried to escape you living vicariously through me
by doing the same thing you wanted me to do.
It was always such a secret escape for me,
and yet it was almost everything you ever wanted!
How does that work? How is that even fair?

And I never even realized until years after I stopped.

Clock

I still toss my glance to the bathroom wall
expecting to see the rainbow clock,
two minutes behind schedule (or something like that),
but this is a new time and place
and it isn't there.
It's funny the way my brain
flips the orientation of the room in looking.
But I wonder
how long it will be
before I stop.

Block

I wonder how you know
when you should listen to your head
and when you should pay attention
to what your heart's telling you?

Lessons learned, and things

The flowers divided prettily among four thin vases (really empty Jones Soda bottles) and sitting on my desk, computer cart, other desk, and dresser do a lovely job of brightening up my room.

I like performing in real roles in things, even if it's scary.

Margaritas are amazing things. They taste wonderful.

I want to learn to be more outgoing all the time... I don't like getting quiet. I don't like being insecure.

I want people to love me.

Water with lemon and lime is nice, too. I always take the lemon and lime slices off the side of the glass so they can flavor the water. It tastes good that way.

I don't like it when people talk about other people. And I wonder what people think of me... what they think of me.

I want to keep performing in musicals
and having flowers
and drinking margaritas.

Menagerie

Fingers open, reaching
toward diamond figures,
animals arranged just so
on the oaken bookshelf
rag-polished every day
(at three:thirty-five p.m.;
Amanda sees to that.).

Maybe far away,
or maybe real near by,
he may be pouring her coffee;
she may be straight'ning his tie.

I like the way the light
catches the glass of my statues
and shines and sparkles through them.

I don't want realism. I want magic!
Yes, yes, magic.
I try
to give that
to people.

"Oh, Laura, haven't you ever liked some boy?"

Face flushes
as crimson hue jumps instantly to cheek.
Eyes flit, unable to decide where to go.
And heart, heart has long ago given up
beating in time with the tickings of the clock.

Lashes brush.
Dark, thick, heavy lashes
framing eyes
that see a lot
and say very little.

I guess
I might have
liked one,
once.

Confrontation

Fears
Worries
so often ungrounded
but sometimes, not.

I wonder
if tomorrow will be like that
if my fears have roots
that are growing into the soil now
and tomorrow, I'll go to yank them out
but I'll pull and pull
but it won't matter
because they
won't
move.

and they'll grab down
and pull and hold
harder and deeper and stronger
than ever before

then I'll step back
defeated
and facing reality
and the weeds will look at me
as they feel their roots
groping in sheer lust,
in some deep, dark place,
and they will throw back
their scrawny little heads
and necks
and laugh.

The ocean is cold sometimes.

Last time
I started to feel
like my semester was going pretty well
and life really wasn't all that bad,
things got a hell of a lot worse
and I couldn't remember
how the other part of this antithesis felt
until I began to doubt
that it had ever existed at all.

Now
I really
don't want that to happen again
but part of me
is afraid it will.

I wonder
if life just rolls in cycles
like the tide of an ocean
going in
and coming out,
in
and out
and in and out
andinandoutandinandout...?