anticurse11:11

A poem by me

When I was born I had a father

When I was three too

When I was five

Since then it’s been a little more complicated

I told you about my father. Showed the messages to someone outside my family for the first time.

You said you’d like to punch him in the face, and that made me feel better. I made jokes even though it wasn’t funny and when you asked if I was okay, I said it was now.

I couldn’t get into it again. Once I get over an emotion I don’t get back into it easily. one and done. Not sure if that means I’m mature or just closed off.

It makes me smile to think of you talking to him about it, saying something completely and unrestrainedly on my side, without my mothers fears of poisoning our relationship. steadfast and sure in a way I’m trying to be, but I’m not yet

Poem by me

I got into songwriting in 9th and 10th grade partially but never fully

Particularly in 10th grade summer, in a program at Berklee, surrounded by the genuinely talented

What I wrote was trite, bad, embarrassing

It was nothing to be proud of

I have a writer friend, an actual talent, and when I look back and remember showing her what I wrote, and how she complimented me, I feel embarrassment rise

Hard to not be the best at something, to not be the expert in what is supposed to be your thing

I’m a theater kid but haven’t played a lead role since 5th grade, and I haven’t played a non ensemble role in a musical since I started high school

I’ve had better luck with plays, but not by much

I’m not the best actor or singer in my grade, and I’m not who people immediately think of

Every since I came back home it’s like I’ve been in some sort of paralysis

I haven’t been doing anything of importance, even though I know this is exactly the time I need to

I’ve been doing SAT math prep, because it feels the simplest, simpler than essays, simpler than carving myself up and presenting myself on a plate, ready for judgement

Working to simplify myself, make me easy to consume

Presenting a “natural” unnatural version, fake authenticity, lies with just enough truth you can’t tell the difference

I stumble in a staircase and a friend catches me,

I don’t think until later how I could’ve cracked my head on those metal stairs,

But I remember how solid her hand felt holding me up,

I remember her reaction when I joked about falling a minute later, even though she made me change my heels for sneakers after the stumble

I wasn’t planning on it otherwise

That was the night she came to my chorus concert, even though I said she didn’t have to,

and I learned she prefers oatmeal raisin over chocolate chip, and makes chocolate chipless chocolate chip cookies

This information went into the notes app on my phone, meticulously kept even though I remember it all anyway

Along with her ideal meal, so I can learn to make it, and birthday gift ideas though hers isn’t till December

running for a hug with a friend even though it’s only been two weeks since you’ve seen her

How suddenly even a day with them gone can feel like an eternity

A kind of familiarity that won’t go away

You weren’t in my life at some point, I know, but I can’t magine it now

Lounging on your couch, meeting even without plans, without energy to speak, sitting on our phones because we’d rather do nothing together than be apart

You defined love as when it’s easier to be with someone than without them, and said I’d taught you what it was

(You’ll never leave my heart)

We want to get out of this town and leave it all behind except each other

You told me in the park that you’ve never felt like you belonged and it made me cry

you reached out to comfort me even though it wasn’t mine to feel

I’m planning to be a therapist and you say that makes sense

I don’t know how to explain that you are the person whose been nicest to me in my whole life besides my mother

Sure, I’ve had friends before but certainly not like you

Summers are long golden hours and lounging around

10th grade summer was carefree, late night card games and days spent roaming until it hit my curfew

11th grade came with work and stress, but it was still us, and it made me sure we were real

My professor told us last week that the brain never forgets anything, it just relearns until the new parhway is stronger than the old

I want to get used to being cared about like this

I got about 15 signatures in my yearbook, even though I didn’t make any close friends, and an A in the class despite my mistakes

It’s really all about being kind

The sure arms of someone to catch you, to remind you to switch your heels to sneakers, to sound horrified when you joke about falling, to remind you to take care

Sometimes you need it to not be your family

Now I’m moving and one of the first messages you sent reminded me to take care of myself