unedited lunchtime poetry 2

While everyone was sneaking out behind the school where the woods were

I was tripping over myself, shyly laughing at his jokes and wondering

what was wrong with me. 

Caught in my crush’s vice like grip I was unable to make a move

While everyone was smoking pot and buying condoms in packs

I was shyly learning how to kiss, wrapped up in a much older man in the front of his shitty car. 

Balancing on the knife’s edge, because

when everyone else had already had one or two breakups,

when everyone else was buckling down, graduating, learning, getting A’s..

I was having the life squeezed out of me over and over

reconsidering leaving the psych ward

opening my body for any man or woman

evil enough to catch my eye

Now, while everyone else is watching their kids graduate high school, thinking about what to do now with their lives,

I have my first best friend.

My second kid is going to preschool,

we are buying a house.

I can’ t help but hope that when 

everyone else is in their graves,

I will be learning how to fly a balloon,

or taking my first trip abroad,

opening my mind to any beautiful city

vital enough to catch my eye.

 

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unedited lunchtime poetry 1

It’s the last year here.

A free pool. We can shuffle down in our sandals. 

The sun bearing down, but such lovely heat.

Stay in the pool all day long.

But I sit and look outside, and despair.

Because it isn’t raining.

And I’m too afraid to go outside.

Even though the sun on my skin is a balm

Even though the kids are dying of boredom

hours of their lives ticking by

We’re going out today, I have decided

like a blitzkrieg

rushing out the door and into danger

we’ll stay out and get burned and laugh and splash

and then I’ll shake myself apart in the shower later

killing myself a little for them

 

 

Water Bearer

Hesitantly I open the chat window and let him in.

Intimacy through joking, instantly brings back

the way he smells, the look on his face when he

accepted my worship, granted my most

desperate begging just to taste him.

I am not strong.

I resent his new found steel,

the arrogant tilt of his eyebrows,

the knowing smile that lurks beneath his skin.

I resent the maenad within me, tearing and biting at my heart,

pushing me to go mad with desire, pushing me to beg him.

Please. Please.

Just let me touch you.

Lunchtime things

I want to lie in the sun on a rock

soak in the heat and light

then shed it later

when the moon gets to me

and I cannot sleep

so I clean and draw and paint

pacing through the house.

If I could be a midnight sun

I could bake the fear out of myself

beams of light and happy

remembering the heat

remembering the pure joy

of baking , after swimming, with a breeze

alone.  quiet.

Instead of midnight madness

counting the seconds

wishing for silence

yammering brain thinking and thinking

wrapping me in what if

what if.

Sun.