the yellow room | Teen Ink

the yellow room

March 15, 2009
By Jenny Liu BRONZE, Canton, Michigan
Jenny Liu BRONZE, Canton, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

sometimes i think too much.

your fingers and your hands are long and elegant and i think that they
look like they were made for pianos and magic and to be slotted through mine.
and please don't give me that lecture, the stare of your animatronic jesus
action figure gives me quite enough reproof as it is.

you have a patch of algae stuck to the side of your favorite aquarium and
i remember once when you lectured me for twenty-six minutes
on all the wonderful redeeming characteristics of phytoplankton but all
i could think was "i love you, i love you" the whole very time.

today is not like yesterday in the sense that today i am not with you and
in that sense i would prefer yesterday. this chair only has three legs but
dysfunctionality and functionality are cross-eyed and too close for comfort anyways.
if i lean back at just the right angle the whole world will topple and so will i.

there is gum stuck in your hair and all the best fantasies stuck my heart,
and when i pick it out you smile your gratitude and i am on fire. i want i want
i want want want but there should be a "never" in there somewhere.
the refrigerator kicks in and the whirring makes me wish you were here with me.

and when i come home the answering machine is blinking and i seem to have
lost all sense of time and direction, but you can't hide the monster in the broomshed
and the sky crashing around my ears. i can hear the hills and valleys of your voice
as i listen and listen.

you pour your emotions out like the trickly faucet on high, sloshing and sputtering overflow
and i collect them all like raindrops in pots and pans and when you tell me it's not fair,
it's not fair
i can but think to myself oh oh, the irony. but i will smile one more time for
you, assure you the sun will always come up to a brand new day but in actuality i prefer yesterday.

everything will be okay because the cat and mouse are just a tv show and you deserve
so much better and i promise i promise. i make you cup noodles, you make me smile.
the radio is on and i hear political discord and bombs in baghdad and i hear your
heart beat pound thud and sometimes when i hear it i just want to explode too, like boom.

every birthday and every star and every day at 12:34 i remind heaven what it
is that i want above all else. there is a dog barking and a kid crying and i almost can't
even concentrate on a thought and a prayer, and i do it even though nobody ever
actually finds the bottle out at sea with all your dreams trapped inside.

there is a bug on the windowsill and i almost squish it by accident in the process
of all this perceptive deceptive imagination. i ache and wonder where the hell your
car keys have gone. there is moonlight everywhere except in my heart but nothing
really reaches there anyways.

i go to sleep imagining that tomorrow, you will want me.

(sometimes i think too much.)


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