Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Idiosyncrasy

During the hours of the day
I'm fine.
I can walk and talk with my
usual guff and banter.
I can joke using my
dry-wit and corny play-on-words.
I can laugh my overly-dramatic
tears-in-my-eyes laugh.
I'm fine.

But during the night hours
everything hits me.
The isolating loneliness
The crushing emptiness
My ever-present un-ringing phone.

And the worst part is
I don't want to go back.
I don't want to go back
To the fighting
and yelling
and hurt
and pain
and "fundamental differences"
that struck us so hard
and so swift.

But I want you
Like nothing else.
I want the crinkle around
your eyes when you smile.
I want those big words
you use in every conversation:
Tantalizing.
Osculate.
Circumlocution.

I want the easy jokes you know
only I would find funny.
So you only say them to me
in the private of my basement.
"No, no trust me I know these things.
I'm a doctor."



The break-up isn't hard.
I don't need the kissing
or touching
or attention
(all that was lacking by the end, by the way).

The part that's hard is
the parting of ways,
The loss of your friendship.
But I can't tell you that
because
I told you the ball was in your court.
I won't talk to you
until you talk to me.

So now it's 11:30
friday night.
And I'm so lonely.
I'm so alone.
And I'm waiting for you to talk to me
so I can say
Hey,
I don't want to be with you,
But I want to be with you.

Because I miss the
crinkle around your eyes
when you smile.
And those big unnecessary words
you use in every conversation:
Excogitate.
Cupidity.
Unencumbered.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback