Sunday, October 23, 2011

Handful of Beans


my face gets red over the silliest things or when it's hot. Sometimes I get nervous around teenagers when I'm vain enough to think they're whispering about me. I toss grapes in the air and catch them unless you're handsome, and then I miss. My muscles get tight when I think about things too hard and I cry when I feel alone and whine when I'm not. I don't know a girl named India and her name feels weird when said aloud, her eyes are brown in the mirror when a hair is caught in between her eyelashes. I try too hard when I want someone to watch and when I don't, they watch anyways. Sometimes I flirt and fall flat and sometimes I knit and someone will think that's great, and hey! what's that? I'll see a movie and grab a sleeve, rarely a boy's sleeve, but sometimes it is one. Sometimes I lie to be cute and tell the truth so that I'll be left alone. I make faces in the mirror (triple chin!), I stare at my short legs, wiggle my toes and stick a Q-tip in my ears.I hug my grandma, trip over a rug, want a boy, wish for better bone-structure, play the guitar, feel great, fail a test, and eat chocolate. I am many things, but like a wool puzzle, it's tough to put together, too squishy, too scratchy. I like to crawl under tables and reward my nephew jellybeans for giving hugs and I like to eat casserole with my hands right out of the hot dish. All of these things, enough to make one person, one human with detestable, lovable, silly, crazy characteristics, but I haven't had the time to say "hey you, how are you? Nice to meet you...who are you again? Why do you act different for her, him, sir, misses? When will you just be you all the time?" Because, I like brown eyes and jellybeans too.

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