30 / 30 : ecclesiastes 9:11.

last poem of the month.

it's been crazy, crazy crazy.

thank you for reading. ive enjoyed the criticism and encouragement.

start your own. keep writing. and reading.

everyone's a poet.

ecclesiastes 9:11

i woke up this morning 

for the first time in four months

without my mother down the hall

to the sound of an incoming message

to my phone

i lazily rolled over 

in my freshly washed linen

in my freshly cleaned room

to a text from her that

declared

the race goes not to the swift

nor the strong

but he who endureth 

in the end

ecclesiastes 9:11

right now i'm in the race for my life

to make sure my future fits 

securely in my palm and snug

in my pocket 

pressed and panicked

each stroke of the clock would set me

off 

but reading that

from the wisest woman that i know

made me smile and i slowly

relaxed

fell back asleep

29 / 30 : being back.

laying in bed next to angie [no homo] on the bsa retreat. back to vandyland. welcome to senior year.

being back

rolling up to towers two

i walked in the front door like

i had hundreds of times before

and it didn't even feel like 

i hadn't been back in four months

in fact it felt like i never left

and as many times as i 

prayed desperately to leave

now i'm holding on to these days

with the jaws of life

28 / 30 : it's the end of the world as we know it [and i feel fine]

all packed. will be back for the last time in t-minus 12 hours.

this is exciting and terrifying, all at the same time.

it's the end of the world as we know it [and i feel fine]

three years ago i begged my mother

for an rainbow colored bedspread 

that was over her budget

as most things are

i promised that i would take care of it

and do my laundry every week

she said as long as i didn't have sex 

on that 100 dollar bed set

she'll buy it because it'll last

four years

tonight i lugged my bedspread

out of the mildewy mess of our basement

i couldn't help but stick my nose in the fabric

and inhale

it smelled like the first day of school

when i lived in lupton house

i had lain my outfit on my bed

with deliberate care my boyfriend and i

had bought it for that very occasion

he said i looked beautiful in it

and he kissed me on the cheek

i'll never forget the night i left him 

for a new life back down south and how

i cradled his 6'2 frame in my arms as he

sobbed secrets in my shoulders telling me

how he loved me so much 

and he'd catch the first bus down 

when he could scrounge up the change

but by the time he showed up 

baggage in hand and a smile on his face

i had changed

it sort of smells like sophomore year tears

a salty and relentless odor of unrequited love

and girlish gossip that sent me

over the edge one day that

cold winter

i sobbed in my bedspread, bare feet on the floor

my heart wanted to be at ohio state

i didn't want to cry anymore because tears

were not enough to keep me

enclosed in the halls of gillette house

i wanted out but angie and michael

wiped away my watery woes and gave me

the good sense to see beyond that day

that week that month

and gave me clarity the three of us

the triumvirate 

were tighter than thieves and if

i didn't have them then 

i'd be bleeding scarlet and grey

along with half of the high school  

i tried so hard to leave behind

i closed my eyes and i could smell the

scent of sexuality from junior year

so strong that bleach couldn't wash it out

i needed a calendar to keep up with

the dudes i was talking to and i was forgetting

the names of the guys who stopped through

they would always make themselves at home

on my bed spread, expecting me to strip 

tease them 

ease them out of their clothes but 

my chastity wouldn't let me

but i can still remember being wrapped together

like poetry and prose

under my covers 

with him and the gust of wind 

he blew in on

as we struggled to find a label

that fit

for what we were 

and weren't

and i can't forget the one who

would drive miles to get underneath my sheets

sneaking him upstairs 

and how he gave me chills he was

ice cold but he promised to warm me up

and he did

he wanted to turn the heat up full blast

but i had to cut him off and he began to 

melt

but the one who held me tight every night

who could very well say my bed was his

and i couldn't get enough of the way he

touched me

saved me 

the best way he knew how

from the coldest winter ever 

by just being there

and shielding me

from my nightmares

and as i folded up the bedspread

tightly

a testament of the dreams and schemes

of the past three years

each one different in every way possible

than the year before it 

i slam the car door shut

with my whole life peeking at me

out of the back window

heading down I 71 for the last time

and it's the beginning

of the end of the world as i know it

but

i feel fine

27 / 30 : hatehatehate.

ahhhhhhh whatttt. SCHOOOOOL!

hatehatehate

i like doing 

the exact opposite

of what i'm not supposed to do

but you hate it

because you'll never be me

but if you were you'd do it too

so get your stencil out

trace me

make some patterns

get the fabric

snip and sew it up

and try me on for size

because that's as close

as you'll ever get

haters.

26 / 30 : mother goose.

went shopping for school stuff today. next year i will be at ikea apartment shopping and shit. CRAZYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

mother goose

i think i should be in the Guinness book

21 year old student from Cincinnati, Ohio

is a mother of 81 children 

i think that is something noteworthy.

and i don't remember the day that

they turned into smedium strangers

into my kids that i would go hard for

but it happened right under my nose

it's so standard now to 

get 8 am texts that scare the shit out of me

thinking its some sort of serious matter

and it's just one of the kids saying

good morning

and if i go more than a week

without playing a trashtalking session

of uno with them something is seriously

out of wack

and i've given advice on everything from

where to go to church to where to drink

what to wear and what is the least amount

to get away with without being called a skank

on books on boys on professors on pearls

on style on sexuality on school books on slow grinds

nothing really surprises me

anymore

and every once in awhile i'll talk to

one of my kids and they'll feel uninhibited

and express whatever is plaguing them and

i listen and it feels as if we have know each other

for far longer than two months

and every once in awhile i'll share

part of myself with them it is 

impossible to keep it all strictly business

we have made friendship bonds that i hope

are tight like glue

and even when i feel like all 81 of them

are asking me 81 different questions

all at the same time and i'm overwhelmed

i wouldn't change it 

for the world