To a Little Sister

I realized
the other day
that our calls
aren't as
frequent as in my ideal world
that our laughs aren't
as deep as they could be
that our tears aren't
as shared as they used to be

and then i realized
that's its perfect
that we are

growing

that the calls will
become
more and more
become
deeper and deeper
become
sillier and sillier
become

and that next time
i need a shoulder to
cry
laugh
on, well it just might be
yours.
with help
from little sis
to big.
reverse the times
reversing the trends
growing together
as individuals.

Imprint

I still don’t have your face
imprinted
in my mind.
On my hands.
How long does it take
to memorize
you?

Daydreams

If you were hit by a bus
I would break
apart
before it happened.

Me leaving you is like
dying
Or
losing a job
depending on the day.

I’m not sure
that’s so great.
Isn’t it worth more?
Shouldn’t.
Shouldn’t?
Shouldn’t!

When the hell are you
Going to be the
writer
that you are?
(Note to self: PLEASE.)

Contrarian Mornings

I say:
I miss you. 
We haven’t talked much in the past few days.

You say:
We spent twenty-four hours a day together this weekend and it’s Wednesday. 

I want to say:
Thank you, dear.

I want to tell you, repeat to you what you already know:
The Facts:  Saturday and Sunday, I was off on my own.

You say:  “I just was countering”

Pick

Pick. Pick. Pick.
Pop.
Pick Pick  Pick
Pop. 
Pick Pick Pick
Pop.

I haven’t ever admitted to addiction. 

Why?

Couldn’t it at least be something relatively normal? 

You know, something that makes people say,
“Wow, you really got over that one!”

OR

“Such a struggle”, while shaking their heads.

OR

To look at you, with that teary-eyed pride of:
“You were so royally f-ed up, but you are looking pretty stable now.”
Which really means that they are your backslide into oblivion, weakling. 

Haven’t seemed to want to be normal in other things,
but it might be nice
to have an addiction that wasn’t so…

Mundane.

Chubby

I’m afraid of not loving you
Saddle bags.
Love
Handles it well,
When it’s
Not in my backyard.

Fake Accent

I have a fake
Accent
In that
It comes from nowhere.
Or everywhere
So
I guess it is real.

Girl Raised in the South

I don’t like G.R.I.T.S.
Butter is nice.
White on white on white
Broke(n) crackers
Kanye West style.
So good.
A tingle.
A tangle.
So good on the lips.