My
ANCIENT
English teacher told me
In
English class
Today
That we had
To do
A
Poetry
Project.
And
WHAT
did she assign me?
Free verse.

Not just a free verse.
A free verse about
MYSELF.

And I sat at my
Computer
This morning
With my pinkies
On the semi-colon
And
The
A

And I thought
A
Lot
About what to say.

And I thought
"I'm blonde
Should I write
About
That?
I'm
Short,
Is
That
What
My poem
Will
Be
About?

But my
Stupid,
Stubborn
Free-verse
Just
Would not
Come out.

So after coaxing
And
Calling
And pulling
Its hair.
I've just gone
And
Left
It
There.

So, my
ANCIENT
English
Teacher,
Ma'am.
Feel free
To bump
My grade
Down
To
A
D minus.
I won't whine or pout

Cuz my
Stupid
Stubborn
Free-verse
Just would
Not
Come
Out.

1 "I've given up on giving up slowly."
2 "You say yes, I say no."
3 "When you're on a holiday, you can't find the words to say."
4 "I'm feeling **** and free."
5 "I can see our fingers are intertwined."
6 "Nice legs, daisy dukes..."
7 "You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war."
8 "Everybody's trying to get to me."
9 "Hey, babe, I got my eye on you."
10 "I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard"
11 "Hey, girl, you know you drive me crazy."
12 "This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world."
13 "In the time of the chimpanzees, I was a monkey."
14 "Honestly, why are my clothes out on the street?"
15 "Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor....."
16 "The static comes in slow.... You can feel it grow."
17 "You promise me starry night skies..."
18 "Never win first place, I don't support the team."
19 "Tell me where our time went..."
20 "I dreamed I went missing, you were so scared."

He's dead.
Gone.
Found killed,
All four of them.
In their house
This morning.

I won't see him in Geometry tomorrow.
He won't pull out Lauren's chair for her.
That was the kind of guy he was.

He won't volenteer for every answer,
Not ever getting discouraged
When he wasn't picked.

He won't chace the football jocks
Down the C-Pod staircase
On the way to lunch.

He'll  never eat a ham sandwich again.

I feel like throwing up.

My bones were vibrating,
Grinding the bite out of my teeth.
My arms wrapped around my stomach
Tighter than a boa constrictor
Trying to stop the shaking
The vibrating
Originating in the pit of my hopeless stomach.
The churning black hole that could erupt at one twitch.
I ****** at the side of my finger,
Avoiding the nausia,
And avoiding the acid nipping at my tonsils.
Chewing away at my bouncing teeth.
My hunched back leaned against the brick,
Spine curved into my shoulders
Enclosing my frozen chest,
My nose threatening to fall off.
And at that time
I wanted to be anywhere
Just to
Get away
From
There.