Though I am often, I am bad
at being alone. I turn off the bathroom lights
& let the shower steam fill the room.
I draw a new face in the mirror.
I imagine my friends, when I don’t see them
for a while, as little dots roaming a map.
Being a poet means being far from the people you love.
Someone I no longer love said that.
My friend says he can’t do another winter
in Minnesota, but leaving seems impractical.
I thought I could keep them all,
but I did not notice the door
until the room was empty.
There are people who don’t need
to hear from me to know I love them.
That’s what happens, I miss people
when I know they are happy.
It’s true: I’ve stopped drinking
because I needed it. I know who to call
in an emergency; that’s not the problem.
I could do it, you know, disappear
& be missed—there was, at one point, a boy
who asked me to stay, asked if I could
be happy there. I told him no. Told him
I had dreams & aspirations,
whatever that means. Truth is,
I think I could’ve been. Happy, I mean.
Fuck me if I’m wrong, but I am doing
some things right, right? What’s up, buttercup.
Howdy-do, buckaroo. I could be happy
anywhere, I think. I’m off again in the morning,
so I drag the suitcase from my closet
& fill it with obnoxious colors,
a green jumper, a yellow scarf, a red coat
I've been meaning to wear where it rains.
Doubt & Fear
Love & Relationships
a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences
the absence of a conjunction (for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so…) between phrases and within a sentence
the use of irony to mock or convey contempt
diverse sentence structure