Poems

twenty-somethings with empty wallets

"you should call your mom back,
and apologize,
even if you're not sure why
you're sorry, just that you
have been, for awhile now,
just sorry
tell her that your stove caught on fire the first time
you actually used it, laugh, tell her
"actually, you were right, i have no idea
how to cook,"
text your best friend back,
i know she and you are growing apart
but it's okay, not all gaps are
impossible to tread across
tell her that last night you ate so much
you felt like you were going to explode
sixteen cups of spinach because
it was all that was left in the fridge and
calories don't count if they're vegetables
say, "i have no idea why i bought it,
i hate that shit," invite her over
to eat ice cream next time instead.
make the bed. take a shower. shave your legs
or your head, whichever makes you feel
less burdened.
don't message your ex. i know you're lonely
in a way that is icing your blood so your
heart is stuttering in your chest
instead write a letter to your grandmother
you know she loves them and besides
she gets lonely, too,
maybe she'll explain how to survive
to you, say, "hey, it's been a while
i'm on my own now,
but grandma,
i think i'm kinda
getting the hang of this,
so thanks for watching out for us kids."
go to sleep, my love. everything seems better
in the morning sun."

//r.i.d