a very merry middle

dear santa:
next time, for christmas, i will know better.
i will know to ask for my vision back,
i will know to ask to not be sick.

merry christmas,
dizzying anger.

merry christmas,
hate hate hate.

oh wait,

nevermind.

for want of

"i don't care if you hurt me. just don't do it on purpose."
"i have no intention of hurting you."

this is all i can ask for,
with the real words,
anyway.

but i want, i want, i want
more than you can give.

(right now?)
(forever?)

"do you want to hang out after the break?"
"yeah, we can."
"i know we can. but do you want to?"
"sure."
"..."
"yes."

"i like that one much better."

kiss me.

to the boy i fall in love with:

slow dance with me to
"sweet and low" by augustana,
alone in your room,

with dim

dim

lights.

please? please.

lock

post script:
chivalry is dead.
i killed him.

THE YOUTH ARE STARTING TO CHANGE ARE YOU
STARTING TO CHANGE ARE YOU
TOGETHER

tuck me in, dig me up:
goodnight. goodnight. goodnight.

i roll the window down

and then begin to breathe in.

hello world, have you forgotten about me yet?
made cheaply, bought cheaply, used cheaply, left cheaply
(at what expense, and to who)

as you are driving me home.

can i be loved yet? please?
okay.