I have been
stuck
on this rubberband for days

I keep pulling
extending
and stretching it
back

I quickly release it
until I hear it
snap

It hit me quite hard
up against my wrist

The minutes and seconds
are raking again
The strands of my hair
on the ground

I feel
lonely

Or even worse

Trivial

Like a shallow river
in the street
After several days of rainfall
I'm an overbanking creek

I flood the town

As if I were the ocean but
there was never
any depth
There was never
any substance
to this interest

Because I
Never felt important



And so I lie flat
on my bed
Until I let
loneliness

Do open heart surgery
It makes a mess of me

And then it stitches me up

Necessity has the teeth of a dog

But I let it burn through
And in my own dissonance
I mother significance

Swarming out of my chest
Until the rubberband breaks

Drift
Noun
A slow and gradual movement or change from one place, condition, etc. to another
Drifting
Verb
The ******* feeling in the world
It’s like, were still friends but we’re transitioning into acquaintances,
maybe even strangers in the near future
Daily conversations start to get rusty
And every word said feels like so much effort
Real talk, becomes small talk, and soon, maybe even no talk
Maybe we’ve just exhausted the list of things to talk about
And you know everything you wanted to know about me and I know everything I wanted to know about you
Or maybe you’ve reached your word limit or something, I don’t really know

But what most people don’t know about drifting is that
Drifting can be a one sided process
Like I’m here freaking out about our friendship and how we haven’t talked in days
And you're just there, probably not even noticing that we haven’t had a single conversation
If our friendship was a group work
I’d be that person doing everything, trying to fix things, putting so much effort
And you’re the one who seenzones the facebook group chat
It’s like we were on boats and suddenly a current rips us apart and if you just pull me in your boat everything will be okay
But no, the current is pulling me away from you and I am using all my strength to paddle back to you
And you don’t even notice and you even find the time to take a swim
Our friendship was a rubberband
You were holding one end, I was holding the other,
The rubberband stretched as the friendship grew, it got tighter and tighter
and suddenly, you decided that rubber bands weren't cool so you let go and i got slapped in the face by our friendship
It’s like wanting to chase you, but not wanting to chase you
Because it can come off as clingy
It’s like wanting to talk to you but I don’t
because I don’t want to disturb you
and that ***** cos you're the only one I want to talk to
but I'm probably not the one you want to talk to
so I just scratch the idea out of my head
and think of another way to talk to the person I once had endless conversations with

the hardest part in drifting is deciding what to do
should I let go?
Because they say that drifting is just a sign from God that you’ve learned everything you can from that person, right
And if I do let you go and we’re meant to stay friends aren’t we eventually going to find our way back to each other?
Or should I hold on, on this one-sided stretched rubberband of ours
and try to fix something that might not even be broken in your eyes

You keep pulling
Tugging
Never knowing my limits
Until I snap!

Pin my arms to their furthest range,
so they’ll forever outstretch to everyone else.
Strum me unendingly. Listen to the hum.
I always do what’s asked.
I can’t wait for the day my insides tear
to the point of steady separation.
Then maybe they’ll stop pulling at me,
and I can tug at my own heart strings.

7:43 AM - Period 1 - Symphonic Band
I hid behind a bank of instrument nooks, each beaten, worn and termite chewed to ruddy brown and grey colors. Doors of old supply cabinets with peeling, plastic, paper coverings squeaked in a draft that no one could find. I kept my backpack against the trumpet section, just around the corner from the door, where no one could see me. Class started eight minutes ago, but Mr. Rants was gone as usual, and our student substitute Nick, was not not here yet. I unhooked the metal clasp on my Fossil backpack, searching around in the front backpack for my gum. I popped it in my mouth and bit down. Crack! Stale.
In a side pocket I found a tube of mascara I had shoved haphazardly in due to my rush from the house this morning. I untwisted the cap and wiped the tip of the brush on the rim, looking for a reflective surface. In the cubby directly in front of me was a trumpet case and a harmon mute. A shiny harmon mute. I stared at my warped reflection in the surface and laughed at myself. I thought "Only a real musician would do her makeup using a trumpet mute." I stabbed myself in the face leaving a long streak of gooey black on my nose. "******" I whispered and licked my finger to wipe it off. I laughed again, my hand still at my face. "This is one of those significant moments" I realized. "I'm not sure why though."

2. 4:21 PM - After School  - Way Home From Orthodontist Appointment
She stroked my hand, which was flat against my leg. "Sorry honey, just because I am a little disappointed because of what happened doesn't mean that." I was silent, staring straight through the windsheild. She sighed and pulled her hand away. I fiddled with a rubberband, my legs crossed beneath me in the passenger seat. I was hurt; I thought we were done talking about this. Hadn't she forgiven me? Like it mattered. Telling her was the right thing and there's nothing more I can do. Light Gives Heat by Jars of Clay came on the radio and as I looked through the rain, repeatedly punching my window, I felt something well up inside me. The feeling that actors must get in dramatic movie scenes. Closing my eyes, I imagined I was in a movie. That it was about me, that I would win whatever I wanted in the end and that I was clever and beautiful. "This is a significant moment" I thought. "But not like this morning, not at all."
I looked over at her, she was expresionless, tapping her finger gently on the steering wheel.
"Maybe I'll post something about this on HelloPoetry later." I thought.

like the flap of butterfly wings,
and softer, smaller, thinner things.
golden shimmer blackened rings,
the tips of your limbs fluttering,
landed weightlessly on my skin.

tickling to my bone glowing hot,
you whispered in my ear, the *****,
hairs at end by winds collapse,
revealing secrets, treasure maps,
weak rubberband encircling snaps.

the spot was marked by sweat to graze
the endless fields of goosebumps raise
an image of a butterfly, it plays,
and whisked into my range of hair.

when i can smell the sound it makes,
and feel its taste in stomach aches.
the butterfly of the body shakes.
into its home, my heart, it takes.
and wraps in black my golden shimmer veins.

your breath the breeze that brought the butterfly's
wings to form to speckles of your eyes.
and lashes batting winked into the skies,
and kissing cheeks and spaces between thighs,
to make goosebump mountains to scale.


when you feel the flap of butterfly wings,
in your bones valley, in blood springs,
into your ear a hush, whisper, the insect sings,
and pulls you in by golden harp strings,
wrapped in black in ropes and rings.
a melody in passion, it begins.

once a rubberband
stretched beyond capacity
now a bungee cord

The barren wasteland
Of my warped mind
Held by a rubberband
Made of space and time
Nothign gets in, nothing gets out
Alive

Soft mountain springs.
Rushed river flow.
Fish flounder down stream.
Birds chase fish.

Grace, dives on a string.
Through water's skin.
Rubberband back.
Heartbeats in flight.

Thriving for landing.
Scrape the tree.
One meal today.
For another's escape.

No song from future, ***, wayne
Can describe this feelin' and or pain
From the beginning till the end **** got stained.
Like a scar it won't go away

Stayin' up all night like it's nothin'
Maybe I try to show off that im bluffin'.
Or exaggerate the fact I'm hurtin'
On the corner wet as hell but lowkey dryin'
Messed up, mad man, tarzan
Confused like tape on a rubberband
Can't sleep without thinking of back then
When I hugged, kissed dreamed about you or just holding your hand.

Pillow cases they show all the real faces
The ones when you can't sleep during different phases.
Of the night, and in the morning you can tell all the traces.
From all those signs down there it amazes.

Probably don't won't or ever just care
But this was not intended for you to be a dare.
And I am stuck looking for an exit that is not ever there.
Yet my feels still strong **** I hope you still care.

Probably act tough to be buff
But inside I am hollow like a cracked up oeuf
And the real me Aint what you see but from the stuff
The lil dam stuff from the times I was still happy and with a bust.

Probably this won't make sense.
For you because I may delete this soon.
But if there were a word to describe everything I there is right now..
I'd say immense.