Too much time

I spend too much time slipping
out the door and stomping
out sobriety like a cigarette butt.

I come home and watch the mirror
for the weather: hard rains and a heavy sun:
sunscreen in my eyes and umbrellas on the mind.

But humidity breeds flaccid anger so I hide in my room with the AC blasting white highway noise into half-lucid wet dreams where she pulls my hair and he lies dead at my feet.

My truth tastes like secrets tastes like apples and pussy and beer and
I spend too much time smoking to ever really remember how it feels in my hands but if I had to guess I’d say it feels like my best friends breasts.

Annie Loucka, Age 16, Grade 11, Bard High School Early College, Silver Key

This entry was written by NYC Scholastic Awards and published on December 3, 2013 at 12:00 pm. It’s filed under Poetry, Writing. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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