Jibba Jabba

These are last year's songs. These don't have the same words anymore, though it feels like they do maybe.

At some point, he looked at me and told me not to look at him like that. I asked "like what?" even though he knew. And he told me that I already knew, but he knew I was going to ask when he said it. He said he'd been good. I knew what he meant, but I didn't say anything. I am two people on one swing. I am three people scared of how to talk to one other person. I am a small child screaming into the sky wondering why I was born alone. I am staring into you and reading your heartbreak. I am your number one believer. I am sure we'd fall back in love if you came too close. I am a million years away from being loved. I am scared of good people. I am happy when I don't have time to complicate my life. I feel good dancing in your shadow, but feel embarrassed and unoriginal. There are different versions of me crying myself to sleep. I am sitting in the back of the Oldsmobile writing poetry and wishing you would miss me. I am smelling something I hate talking about. I am getting out of jail free with this orange or green card, but I can't remember which one. I am older. I am dreaming that I am having a lucid dream where I am forcing myself to write down this one dream I had last night in the dream. It didn't remind me of the word inception until I told someone else about it outloud and felt unoriginal. I think about Matt Sherling every time I'm grooving on poetic wavelengths. I write that down. I am praying to God. I am scratching my arms. I am yelling in sync with orphans and circus clowns. I am laughing. I might still be crying. I am learning differences. I am worried about passionate love and dutiful love and named my cat Clarissa because I am justifying my life. I am offended. I am smarter than these girls so I tell you I may come around in time, even though I am just watching three hours of tv I don't even think I like. I am dreaming of naked girls. I am listening to time pass, in case it has a good soundtrack. I am singing along to this Justin Bieber song while Neil Young reminds me of independence. I am loving the sound of fingers on keyboard. I never meant to betray you. I'm still not sure if I have. This is the first I've thought of you during this moment. I still feel guilty for things you did wrong. I am not sure what that says about me. I want to have homework. I wouldn't know how to be a wife. There are ghosts in my hair whispering on my neck about beauty and disgrace. This is coming home. This is terror or glamour. Man made divinity.

I could do more.