All The Things You Never Said

To my laundromat,
I'd really appreciate it if you would leave the spare change in the pockets of my coat.

To my sister,
I ate your sandwich. I'm sorry about the fight it caused, but I'm not sorry for eating it.

To the boys who always talk sports,
I don't know why overtime is exciting. To me it just seems like a convenient way to draw out disappointments.

To Mr. Nelson,
I get nervous when you don't comment on my blog.

To Peter,
You left your Bon Iver CD in my car again. I hate Bon Iver.

To that guy I work with who kind of likes me,
Today I worked an 8 hour shift. You didn't come in at all. It was endless.

To my friend that's always trying,
I didn't pick up the phone when you called that one time because I had just gotten in bed and my feet were cold.

To my neighbor,
Your breath always smells horrible.

To the hipsters at school,
For some reason, I thought buying a flannel shirt would make it okay for me to eat with you all at lunch.

To my manager,
I was flattered when you told me I was pretty, but I got confused when you said I should use that to sell more merchandise to men.

To the man who watched us pack,
I hope the pizza wasn't too gross. I'm sorry I gave you the old slice.

To Ella Fitzgerald,
You help me fall asleep sometimes.

To my dad,
I heard McDonald's is hiring. You should apply.

Margaret With The Sad Eyes, Whose Husband Never Let Her Go Outside.

Little Bird On A Wire.

"I think of you often, but for once I meant what I said."
-Lisa Hannigan

---------------------------

You're the reason I have ears and a mouth.

And I can't fall asleep anymore.

I'm pretty sure that's your doing too.

So I'll give you two months.

And I'll ask you only the good questions.

And I won't ask you to kiss my hand anymore.

And we'll just be another guy and girl

who didn't know how

to work

things

out.

Just Another "How To."

I know you came here for instructions. You want to know how to wash a horse or how to fix a flat tire or how to stop a feud between your two best friends  That's what you really want.  Not some lame diatribe from a scared girl behind a computer screen.  Because that's all I really am.  

I'm not wise.

I'm just sad.

Sad like the empty chorus of a couple hundred children, and by the way their voices sound you know they've all seen porn before.

So you want a "how to?"  I'll give you one.  How about this: How To Do Well In School. I could probably just B.S. my way through that one.  Or maybe I'll just go to bed early.  That sounds nice.  It sure beats going back and forth between Facebook and Ultimate Guitar, all the while trying to decide where I want my coffin buried.

I'm not suicidal.

I'm just profoundly messed up.

All I'm saying is that when you wake up and your mom still isn't home, you start to question your father's capabilities.  

"I don't think he's doing it right."

But that's just between you and me.

Alright, I'll give you a how to.  

This is what you've been waiting for, I'm sure.

The road to happiness, the final piece to the puzzle, and all those other cliches.

Here it is:

Thank you for your time.

Talking With Liars.

The pier was empty.  And it always will be.
You keep saying that I still look lovely in corduroy.
And I keep complaining about the wind that stings my eyes.
But you're right, I do talk too much sometimes.

Is that the best you can do?

All these other people telling me the same thing:  "He can't take you anymore."
And they tell you: "Divide and conquer the cheap conventions.  But don't let the judge hear it."
I don't even know what that means.

But I do know that I don't like to be stampeded.
And I told you that, but you ignored me.
So I just sipped my tea, while you promised that you'd take care of me.
You're always saying that, and you know aren't going to do it.

And that means that none of us ever need to go out again.

I wish I could make myself feel less sad.
I've been kneeling here for almost an hour.
And I know it drives you crazy.
And I should not have spoken.
It wasn't necessary.

But when I had woken up, I had forgotten what my name was.

And you just stared at me and said:
"No offense lady, but I don't even know you."

Snippets From The Life Of Your Worst Self

I

did not die

and discover

a list of

people who 

are 

wrong.

petrified,

ignored,

badly damaged,

he 

collapsed

in 

the street.

The Smoke Made Me Lose Something

I've been thinking about wearing pink,

and waking up in the early morning.

I've never had a better dream,

Except I don't want this sleep.

I Forget Everything, But The Red Light Bulb.

I can't remember a lot of the important things.  Things like my first soccer game or those daddy daughter dates I used to love.  I can't remember when my sister was born or when I met my best friend or when I got my first kiss.

But I do remember the color of his eyes and the knots on the tree trunk we were standing next to.  I remember the smell of the flowers he put in my hands, and the way the clouds made the mountains look like a painting.  I can remember the way my hair danced, like it was made to dance.

I remember kicking rocks around and laying down on the asphalt, just because it was warm.  And something about that made my fingertips wiggle.  And you traced my shape with chalk, but it just looked like a blob.  And we never stopped laughing about that.

I remember being scared, but still wanting to run.  As far as I could.  Until nothing looked familiar and everything was bigger than me.  Like, at least three times bigger.

I remember feeling important.  Like things wouldn't be the same without me, so I stayed.  I remember liking that, and never wanting it to go away.  But I remember when it did.

And I remember the dirty windows and how they made everything look really plain.  And I never wanted to go outside.  I remember the blue corduroy couch and the hiding spot behind it.  I remember sitting there, hidden and nervous, waiting for something to happen.  Anything.  And I remember waiting for a very long time.

And I remember the garden and the play house that smelled like moths, and the loft on top of the living room and the tea parties I never had, the fireplace, the double oven kitchen, the changed locks, and the red light bulb that never went out, even when all the other lights did.  And I remember thinking that it was stupid, because it didn't know it's place.  But neither did I.  So I guess that makes me stupid, too.

I'm stupid too.

Me with my broken mouth and cracked eyes, remembering all the things that never really mattered.