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sophiejohnston

  • Articles, Depression, Environment, GirlSpring.com

    The Birthday: Poem

    I acquired some spirit of misanthropy
    –misunderstanding
    Monotony and glum of Mississauga
    Spell it out for me, baby–
    I couldn’t
    Red-dot bugs
    And funny spiders
    –crawling
    On linoleum of
    A fluorescent pool
    Swimming and speaking of
    a hotter future and glamour and
    Grown-up girls with push-up bras
    Where a wound in expectation
    And
    Appreciation of innocence
    We viciously swam
    –hunting
    Hot and forged in errant
    Did I walk away when the beat
    –falling
    To the floor, a girl sucker punched
    Down into the pool
    –Little Ryan punched Lauren
    But I still swung at the piñata blindfolded with a bat
    A skinny boy demonstrated
    That he could protrude his vertebrae
    And still skim the floor for fallen piñata candy
    With ease
    Fat and funny, I let them be
    –searching
    The empty party for more ice cream cake
    And a sad girl dangling her feet in the pool with
    A bloody nose
    Adults
    –lingering
    at her side
    “What happened?”

    Happy Birthday
    They sighed

     

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