Memoir of the Imminent

This is who I am.


And when I look back ten years from now, I don't want to see you.

I don't want to see your expectations,

your heaving sighs,

your rolling eyes.

I don't want to see your face behind mine.


I don't want to see your cowardice

or you powerless

or the way you use your weaknesses against everyone you love.


Because I don't want to see you, or much less be you.

I mean,

I don't want to be that girl who

hides under her blankets

with that lonely Pandora station playing in the background.


Because this train has left that station

and it's been derailed

and it's heading south where the sun is shining.


See, when I look back ten years from now,

I want to see someone who

knows her place

who shows her face

to all of those she feels she's disgraced.


It's like,

I want to be someone who

doesn't need to be corrected by her mother

who doesn't need scoldings from her father

when shes fighting with her mother.


I want to be someone who

gets along with her brothers

and can tell them she loves them

and isn't afraid to show up at family functions because

she's not stoned like the rest of them.


I want to be someone who

picks up the phone to

call her mistakes

and tells them she's sorry

for making them worry

but she needs to leave them behind.


See, This is who I am.

Or I guess

who I will become.


But, I'm starting with my eyes;

I'll strip away the lies

that they can't seem to stop focusing on.


I'll make my feet start walking

and my hands start talking

because even if it comes to, "Talk to the hand."

I'll still have something genuine to say.


And then I'll do a lot of work on my heart

because it's the hardest thing to restart.

It'll bleed and tear

and fill with air

until it's actually ready to rupture.


But that's okay,

because it'll understand

when the person that I want to be

will finally become who I am.

I Gave You Goodbye

He stood at the edge of the world and glanced down.  "There are better things for me," he tells the monster standing behind.

The monster, a grotesque fragment of someone he used to know, rears its head and gurgles a threatening growl.

"I don't need you anymore."

The beast cries out.

"I'm leaving you behind."  And he leaps, having little to do with faith, and falls into the unknown.

You Take Your Heart and Walk Away

I remember the way you looked at me when you said that I
broke your heart
and
left you
there to
die.
I remember that we weren't friends for a long time after.
I remember being angry that you would not let me have this,
this one story,
when you'd already had so many.
I remember that it wasn't worth it.

I remember you urging me forward;
you didn't want to pick sides,
but you said you would be on
mine.
I remember thinking that I didn't want there to be any opposition,
I didn't want you to have to choose.
(You shouldn't have had to choose.)

I remember trying spare you.
I remember failing because of that
damn smile
and those
damn words
that were
effortless.

I remember telling you what I'd heard.
I remember what a
horrible liar
you were when you said they were all
wrong.
I remember you
laughing.

I remember the year that I wasn't happy.  

I remember you digging into my 

insecurities 

and not being 

bothered to 

cover them up 

again.  

I remember when we became 

friends 

again.  

I remember you took me out, 

but just to remind me that 

he wasn't mine anymore 

and that he 

never 

was in the first place.  

I remember believing that.

I remember being

sick

of everything.

I remember how

desperate

I was to get everything back.

But I remember you telling me that

we could

never

be the same.

Tell Me Now Can You Feel It?

I was wrong.  I was wrong.

You are in so deep and I don't know why that bothered me when my mother said it.  The way she let the words fall from her mouth, "We need to love her." A sad look.  "She has problems."

Why did those words make me so angry?

Maybe I was envious that she noticed you and not me.

Maybe I was upset because if this meant you were troubled, then I must be troubled to.

Maybe I was angry that you had the courage to do it when I didn't.

Even though it's been  repeating over and over again in my head, I could never.

Is it bad that when I heard about you the first thought to cross my troubled mind was the word 'brave'?

No.

I think I'm mostly frustrated because you have

problems

and all I have is

the muck in my head.

Maybe You Would've Been Something I'd Be Good At

How to get a boy to not like you:

Never ever turn off your 'outside' voice.  My mom says this works really well.

Constantly use cliche lines that will make his toes curl.  Things like, "I'm not like other girls."  He will laugh  in your face and tell you that every girl says that.

Be so clumsy that he'll think you can't take care of yourself.  I mean, really convince him you could be an invalid because of it.  He'll run.

Text him embarrassing things in the middle of the night like, "I just really need to know if I mean anything to you."  And when he doesn't text back, make sure to send him a text that says, "Are you there?"

Always wear a mask of giggles and smiles to distract him from your abyss of a soul.

Steal his things.  Like his hat or backpack or family.

Make jokes about kidnapping his family.

Don't stop being awkward.

And if none of this works,

if all else fails,

just tell him that you like him.

That always works for me.