Maybe id be a better daughter
if you were a better mother

Up until i was 12 years old
i used to only read this giant dictionary.
See this book had a whole section
dedicated to names.
Boys names
Girls names
Their meanings
Their roots.
I would sit up in my room
with my hair hanging in front of my face
in my sisters old Beatles t-shirt
and highlight the names that made me happy.
Now this may seem cute and nice, but really its not.
I would pretend that i was having kids
and that these were the names.
i would plan their likes and attitudes.
Big events in their lives.
Interests,hobbies, all the way down to favorite foods.
The fact is that this makes me a hypocrite
because one of the scariest things in my life
is expectations and for 12 years
i sat and planned my unborn children.
and this is why i don't want to have kids anymore
because i don't want them to have to live up to my expectations
because what if i don't love them anymore if they don't.
because i sure don't love me anymore.

I hate it
more than anything else
when people negatively comment
on how much energy someone has.
No need to be so excited  
Yes there is sir.
As a matter of fact
we have a great need to be excited.
We have to make up
for all the negative
grumps like you.

i have never
not once
not even one time
been able to write a story.
I have prepared characters
hair
eye
skin color.
I have prepared their
likes
dislikes
quirks.
I know when they
are born and when they die.
I know why they hate driving on highways
and why they love sour cherry jellybeans.
I know who they fall in love with and
with whom it doesn't work out.
But why, for the love of god,
can't i write a story about them.

Love is pretty much every single person involved
turning into a ****.
Curling, griping, grasping someone so tight
that they squirm.
We like to say that this is an act of affection
but really, whats so lovely about latching on
to something that always changes?
because as far as I'm concerned, that is not lovely at all.
That is just plain self harm.

We are acting as juvenile
as two middle school kids
convinced their in love
when all they do is hold hands
and maybe sit together at lunch.
If they are feeling brave.  

This is as pointless
as straightening my hair
when the rain dribbles down
begging to invade my smoothness
and turn it into a waste of time.

This is as painful
as running with shin splints
and pushing on anyways.
Except it hurts on the inside.

This is as over
as it is.
and i would like to say
i am sorry for not being more okay
with juvenile pointless pain.

I want you to come back
and lay with me on the rocks
with our hands intertwined
on top of my soft stomach.
Arguing about whether
people are overrated or not.