Monday, October 22, 2012

college years


I'm shy for awhile. I hide in my room.
My friends find me & say, "Come out
& play scared little bud,
blossom in these years of youth."
& I say okay.
I try new faces,
drugs,
energy drinks,
I drink them all in.
I fall asleep on top of books
I fall asleep on top of people.
Is that slutty?
No, you're young, it's college.
Whatever. I'm a creative writer
I'm a creative excuse maker.
I'm almost always late,
unless it's my Shakespeare class
with the brilliant & terrifying teacher
reciting words said centuries ago,
Beautiful words that can die in apathy
if they aren't beating in the hearts of those sleepy students.
I'm hired but my heart is beating for something.
I'm curious. I fuck up.
I fulfill requirements.
My heart breaks
& I hurt someone else's with its edges.
I lose friends, I make friends.
I make out with friends.
I drink too much.
I say too much.
I am too much.
I feel depressed.
I medicate.
Nah, I'm fine.
I unmedicate.
I write some bad papers,
I go on some bad dates.
I fall in love with my ideas of love.
I raise my hand to be polite
&aepresent my ideas.
I get nervous when everyone turns to look at me
Unless I look pretty cute that day,
Which very much depends on if I'm wearing sweatpants
& what time I woke up.
Sometimes I don't wake up.
I enjoy a guilty day off
Because I decide my schedule and laziness.
I get jealous of responsible people.
I get thai food across the street every week.
I get lonely.
I'm intrigued
By the world I'm still a little too shy towards.
I'm becoming aware,
I'm realizing my potential,
But I fold it in half
& save it for later.



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