A two-for-one special!

[mono_chr0matic]

I haven't written poetry in a while, but it seems I haven't gotten rusty :)



Sentimentalist

I am a messy hodgepodge of longing;

I am hungry.

I hunger for the city streets at night.

The hot fervor of humid August down my neck.

The clack of my stilettos, ricocheting off the stone and brick,

a beckoning, an afterthought.

I am a vicious flirt;

I ache for danger.

I miss the sidelong glances

and the too-loud murmurs -

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

I am a sentimentalist

because all that time,

entrenched in my burgeoning adulthood,

mourning my innocence,

I was miserable.

But it was the sweetest misery I've ever tasted.



It Gets Better

Sometimes I write when I can't sleep.

It's sort of like driving drunk.

Or maybe not.

Maybe I just like the sound of that.

I reject the term 'insomnia.'

I sleep fine. Come daylight.

I can't seem to fit myself into

the proper partitions of a clock.

Can't seem to fit myself into

the proper partitions of anything, really.

And then I wonder if I will ever fit anywhere...

before remembering that I am young and small.

And it will pass. Things will get better.

Or so they say.