Sam Glaspy's Poetry

7/23/2020- Romanticizing Myself

I tend to romanticize things and other people,
But I don't really do it for myself.
I've had a bad day, so I might as well try.
I don't like very much about myself,
So I'll try and make this readable.

Sam Glaspy.
That's not even my real name.
I hate my real name because it's too feminine and long.
My good friend,
Who I met on the worst day of my life, said I looked like a Sam,
And I never turned back.
One day, when I get away from my family,
I'm changing it to Sam.
My new name doesn't belong in my father's mouth.
But "Sammy" can belong in the mouths of my closest friends.

I have chin length hair.
It's dark brown, wavy, and I like it big.
I tease it up high when I don't have confidence,
As a way to force the world to look at me.
To see me.

I have red wire-rimmed rectangular glasses.
I don't really need them too bad, because my prescription is low,
But they make me more confident in my face shape.

Some days, I wear a ring on each finger except the one a wedding ring belongs on.
"It's a metaphor," I say. "Ever read 'The Fault In Our Stars'?"
I twirl them when I get anxious.

I'm soft for vulnerable moments.
I hate being touched,
But with the couple people that can touch me,
They say I'm a good cuddler.

I'm motherly towards kids aged 5-12ish.
Or should I say fatherly?
I encourage them to follow their dreams and help them reach things off the top shelf,
But I teach them to take no shit and bite as hard as your bark if you have to.

I take up as much space as I can when I'm with my friends.
Partially for fun and it's comfortable,
Partially to jokingly assert my dominance over my Rat Squad of friends.
They call me their dad,
Because I'm the one they go to when someone calls them a slur (and they want me to beat them up),
But also the one they go to to braid their hair.
I curl up small whenever I feel vulnerable though.
It's in my Soft Moments where you can find me sitting like a normal person.

I have synesthesia, and I hear the world in color.
Different songs and voices trigger different colors and textures.
Red is my favorite color, because it's the color of anxiety,
And I feel like I can conquer it if I wear my fear on me.

I love night.
I drag all day, but when nine pm comes, I'm wide awake and ready to create.
No one's around,
I can write better,
I feel better,
And stars come out.
I love the stars. I memorize constellations in my free time and I'm always reading about space travel history.
It makes me feel at peace with my constant existential crisis state.

I tend to fall in love with strangers.
I see someone in Walmart, and suddenly I'm thinking about her for months.
I like imagining what strangers are like.
Do they like dogs or cats?
What's their favorite book and album?
I also wonder if people feel the same way about me,
Or if anyone has guessed I dance and hop around the kitchen every time I microwave popcorn, and I take naps only listening to A Day at the Races by Queen.
Probably not.
But it's nice to think about.

There. Ten things. It's not so hard to love myself if I think of myself as poetry like I do with everyone else.