Jan 17

Among Other Things


I used to love the way the sun touched
the tips of my fingers every morning
as I got ready to fall asleep again,
but now I hate the blinding light that
wakes me up the first time.

Among other things I hate is the
way raspberry jam collects in rivets of my toast
so when I take a bite of one 
particular section, the jelly runs down my chin
and drops
innocently to the table,
and stays there until I pick it up.

My friend never answers the phone,
even after I call her three times
and I like this because it means she knows
I don't really want to talk, but I did call,
so I am a good friend,
my phone bill proves it.

The teacher doesn't have a good reason to yell
at the girl in the middle seat of the second to last row,
but he still does,
and his spit is lit clear before it lands on
the side of the desk no one wants to sit at.

No one wants to sit with me.
At lunch or in the library.
All my friends have different lunch periods.
That's what I say.
Tomorrow, tomorrow is a blue day
and I will sit with my friends.

Among other things I like is
the way my dad loves me
by not calling me or not visiting for years.
He's always been so good at hiding
things.
And I like to think his best kept secret
is that he loves me.

I'm a terrible liar so I try not to do it,
only when I leave the tupperware in my
backpack again and I know
I'm going to get yelled at if I 
say that I forgot.

I remember a lot of things.
But not the important ones,
like how centripetal force
is equal to static friction.
or
how I should probably eat breakfast
and sleep more than 5 hours a night.

I want to be a doctor,
or that's what I tell all of my relatives
and my guidance counselor
and my sister.

I want a lot of things.
I need a lot of things.
I have a lot of things.

If only, it weren't for the damn sun
waking me up at 6 am 
every morning,

everything would be fine.