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Flip flop, summer has come,
my sandals have yet to see the beach,
have they ever seen the beach,
the ground is wet,
I smelled
yesterday, like wet ground
wet fertilized ground.
(I walk into this and was quite upset.)
I sat in the room,
with a window ceiling,
and waited for group,
perhaps my last
as a college student,
I might be swimming instead,
but
not at the beach,
not at the dunes I fearlessly climbed,
I climbed steep ground the other day,
scared my sandals would fail me. and
I would slip, rolling
down,
hitting bush and tree
my legs are weak
from too much sleeping
from too much seating
a yellow container of water,
ice melted,
the bathroom was hot the other day,
after scrubbing the tub I turned on a hot shower,
to wash the cleaner away,
the door was closed as I mopped,
pushing against the ground,
wondering if this mop did anything at all
I have never been a good mopper,
when I was a kid I used a rag and a bucket,
on my hands and knees,
mopping is a skill that is just beyond me,
I can vacuum, cook (Macaroni and Cheese), wash dishes,
when I clean I work endlessly. Focusing on every detail.
then my weak hands (from sleeping) start to complain,
like holding a pencil in elementary,
Rolling down the dunes,
a vast desert of ups and downs,
finding resting spots away from light,
running down to the water,
when I was baked in the sun,
after being lost in the dunes for hours,
I soaked in the bathtub,
anything to help the pain.
I’ve never been so red,
and will never be again.
I was better at moving and yard work when I was younger,
I did not have this air of delicacy,
pulling down vines and cutting down branches,
I climbed into the trashcan to push it all down,
one of those vines was poison ivy.
My Mom had never seen poison ivy that bad,
I lay awake at night just wishing that I were normal,
when I returned to school I proudly told my friend all the gross details,
which for the sake of my stomach I will not reminisce,
the horrible smell of vegetables are polluting my nose,
the party kind, stale and… well, polluted with chemicals,
I sat in the room,
with a window ceiling,
and waited for group,
perhaps my last
as a college student,
I might be swimming instead,
but
not at the beach,
not at the dunes I fearlessly climbed,
I climbed steep ground the other day,
scared my sandals would fail me. and
I would slip, rolling
down,
hitting bush and tree
my legs are weak
from too much sleeping
from too much seating
a yellow container of water,
ice melted,
the bathroom was hot the other day,
after scrubbing the tub I turned on a hot shower,
to wash the cleaner away,
the door was closed as I mopped,
pushing against the ground,
wondering if this mop did anything at all
I have never been a good mopper,
when I was a kid I used a rag and a bucket,
on my hands and knees,
mopping is a skill that is just beyond me,
I can vacuum, cook (Macaroni and Cheese), wash dishes,
when I clean I work endlessly. Focusing on every detail.
then my weak hands (from sleeping) start to complain,
like holding a pencil in elementary,
Rolling down the dunes,
a vast desert of ups and downs,
finding resting spots away from light,
running down to the water,
when I was baked in the sun,
after being lost in the dunes for hours,
I soaked in the bathtub,
anything to help the pain.
I’ve never been so red,
and will never be again.
I was better at moving and yard work when I was younger,
I did not have this air of delicacy,
pulling down vines and cutting down branches,
I climbed into the trashcan to push it all down,
one of those vines was poison ivy.
My Mom had never seen poison ivy that bad,
I lay awake at night just wishing that I were normal,
when I returned to school I proudly told my friend all the gross details,
which for the sake of my stomach I will not reminisce,
the horrible smell of vegetables are polluting my nose,
the party kind, stale and… well, polluted with chemicals,
