I aced the GRE!!!!!!

Will someone let me into grad school? duh duh duhhhhhh

I can't be your girl

Not precious, pretty, or petite

I'm not graceful,

and have always been constantly

tripping over my feet (even though I

only wear sneakers), or dropping things.

I never wear heels,

they make me feel wobbly

when I need to be in control.

I cannot lay docile,

cannot just let things happen to me.

I can't help but defend my opinion,

and argue till I look like a fool,

but I'll still put on my makeup.

I hope it makes my mother,

the 50-year-old version of your girl, happy.

Come disconnect the dots with me

Tendrils of hemp belt

tied in a neat knot

but not making its waist

Ceiling fan drooping

cannot stand the weight

of a heart too whole

their hands

around a neck

suffocating

The rope is durable,

but she is not.

I've Been Waiting All My Life For This...

Seize the Day

Sunlight invades our sheets,
restrained by iron lines
of shadows allying
window panes.

Sleep is a casualty.
Brightness confronts us, violating our eyes,
teasing us while concealing its cold clip.
We surrender beneath the blanketed compound,
darkness compromising morning vows.

We are obscurity’s hostages,
Standing up to the radiation
Detained in each other,
appeased.

Something in the way you people smell, like you've got no soul at all.

I wrote a revision about one of my poems on this blog from two years ago for my creative writing class, and it brought my professor to tears.

The Process (3/9/09)

“Baby fat doesn’t smell like adult fat.”
You would expect it to be easier to autopsy an adult
than a child. We flip the tiny cadaver’s scalp up,
and then I can pretend I am dissecting a cat, AP-bio style.

You don’t need the bone saw on children.
Using the scalpel, we cut the cartilaginous ribs one-by-one,
and easily remove the breastplate.
The organs are miniature, and even cute.

I’ve never seen a heart so small and so precious.
I only think it’s sad that it will never see CAD.
I wonder what this child could have done or seen
with its life, now wasted by asphyxiation.