i can't help it

your words get stuck in my head like popcorn shells between my molars

like a pick that fell into the belly of an acoustic guitar

it might be my weakness

the way you look at me makes me sick like the smell of licorice

like the feeling of strands of hair in my clothes after a barber visit

i might be cowardly

i would rather bend for you than break for everyone

like a green twig in the hands of a cub scout

i would like to forgive

if i could only forget first

i lust for rest.

i imagine my time resting

i am bathing

i am eating

i am truly, at rest.

i lust for rest.

i yearn for it

i pine after it

i imagine my time resting

i am calm

i am happy

i have no thoughts

i am truly, at rest.

yet when i have the time,

when i have the time to rest

i can't.

i squirm

i shake

i pace around the room.

during those moments

i imagine my time resting

i am in my old room

the air is warm

the a/c hums

the night sky is loud with thunder

the rain falls onto roofs and sidewalks

like water balloons thrown by angels.

i lust for rest

not a bath

not a cup of hot tea

i lust for the rest i had when i was young,

when all i had to do was go to bed

and wake up in the morning.

She was the type of gal you'd wanna get real nice with, get real close to. The kind where you wanna meet her parents and thank them. She danced low and slow to the ground like mist- no, like smoke. Her dark halo of curls stood stiffly as she meandered her way over to me. She moved like syrup sliding off pancakes.

"I don't recognize you, you with Tony?" she asked, the dim light glittering in her dark, molasses-colored eyes. Truthfully, I had no business in that dingy club. I was only there for her, the dame of my dreams.

I love that feeling of being just barely sunburnt. Not "burnt to a crisp" where you get blisters and peeling skin, but that feeling where you're warm and sleepy. It reminds me of the countless times my parents would take me and my brothers to our neighborhood pool when they had an hour or two to spare.

We'd splash around for an afternoon, and since we were all paler than bleached paper we had to constantly reapply sunscreen. But, despite my parents' hard work at coralling three toddlers, we would still get burnt anyway. We'd head home after a while, our eyes stinging from the chlorine and our hair stiff from the water. We would then wait for our dad to make us some post-pool sandwiches. They were the same as any other sandwich we would get for our lunch, but something about eating them after swimming for hours made them taste... better? After that, it was time for a nap. That's where one of my favorite feelings in the world comes from: lying in bed, slightly radiating heat because I got a little sunburnt, slathered in aloe, and peacefully drifting off to sleep. I have lived through that feeling hundreds of times, and every time I feel it I am always brought back to being a happy little kid, oblivious to everything and loving it.