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Literature Text
Cameron Bergeron stands tall, but I'm not sure it's
Because of pride, or just
Because he's already 6"2
With only up to go.
His hair is in a constant state of
Too-long-for-dress-code
And his face is in a constant
I know something you don't.
I know mathematical formulas that will make your head spin.
Just kidding, I don't but I could probably
Convince you I did.
I can ace tests without studying,
Argue the beginning of the universe,
And never turn in homework, but still get A's.
I'm out of the loop, he tells me with a frown.
I want to tell him that he's so lucky to be out of the loop.
Because inside, it's always hatemehateyoulovehim,
And even the stars have decided to leave.
It's a stupid loop, I tell him instead.
Cameron lives every second, and tells himself
That this is the last 6:53 P.M. on May 24, 2012,
He'll ever get, so why not live.
Just kidding, he doesn't,
But we all have a few faults.
Cameron grew up with a bible as a bed-time story,
But he tells people there are atoms in the sky.
He plays drums on his desk with a pencil
And when he sits next to Jonah,
It's a symphony of
I can't hear you telling me to be quiet.
He flicks his hair out of his eyes,
Only to sculpt it back in place.
There are bets that he'll be bald by class reunion.
Cameron Bergeron stands tall,
And he has every reason to be proud.
I know that in four years I will be rid of this place,
And I know that I will never
Have to
Come back.
Because of pride, or just
Because he's already 6"2
With only up to go.
His hair is in a constant state of
Too-long-for-dress-code
And his face is in a constant
I know something you don't.
I know mathematical formulas that will make your head spin.
Just kidding, I don't but I could probably
Convince you I did.
I can ace tests without studying,
Argue the beginning of the universe,
And never turn in homework, but still get A's.
I'm out of the loop, he tells me with a frown.
I want to tell him that he's so lucky to be out of the loop.
Because inside, it's always hatemehateyoulovehim,
And even the stars have decided to leave.
It's a stupid loop, I tell him instead.
Cameron lives every second, and tells himself
That this is the last 6:53 P.M. on May 24, 2012,
He'll ever get, so why not live.
Just kidding, he doesn't,
But we all have a few faults.
Cameron grew up with a bible as a bed-time story,
But he tells people there are atoms in the sky.
He plays drums on his desk with a pencil
And when he sits next to Jonah,
It's a symphony of
I can't hear you telling me to be quiet.
He flicks his hair out of his eyes,
Only to sculpt it back in place.
There are bets that he'll be bald by class reunion.
Cameron Bergeron stands tall,
And he has every reason to be proud.
I know that in four years I will be rid of this place,
And I know that I will never
Have to
Come back.
Literature
we're magnetic like that.
you think you’re an enigma and maybe you are
maybe you aren’t. i think you laid out little road maps
to decrypt yourself. gave us photos of your veins and
waited for someone to bleed the colour of it in.
from the snatches of your life you’ve written
the person you were at seventeen
the journals and the blogs and the fire that burnt out
with its embers still whispering to you even if
none of it seems coherent, none of it is
the epiphany you were named for but you are
waiting.
you think you are an enigma and i love you for it,
you need your “gotcha” moments, you spin out
ballads of beauty and then end the poem wit
Literature
warmer and warmer
the drapes
greet me
an unpleasant
morning.
the sink
drip
drip
drips
again
& the tiles
are colder barefoot.
there is a pile of
newspapers on the
marble counter
& dead quiet
in the air-
until steam
billows from
the coffee mug.
sunlight
beams in the room
like a visitor
& breakfast
comes in with
a sweet smile.
it was 6:30 when
i was alone,
but 7:00
arrived
like a neighbor
& i am happy.
i have myself,
oversized t-shirt
& messy hair
& the warm
comfort of my
own skin.
i was alone.
i'm not anymore.
Literature
let's pretend this never happened
because honestly,
i don't know you and this was
just a big mistake, she says
very softly.
the morning sun peeks in
through the curtain as she pulls
on yesterday's shirt and i catch
my last glimpse of her thin
shoulder blades, protruding like
wings about to burst out of their
seams. she won't look at me.
the floor creaks with her weight
as she gathers her things. i've
already forgotten her eyes, wide
with wonder, and her lips, her
slender jawbone. i wish she
would turn around. i try to speak,
but words don't come.
her bare feet pad across the
room and she pauses in the doorway,
head turned to the side, as if listening,
perhaps to my h
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I'm very sorry this is so bad, Cameron. I guess he deserves a better poem.
I remembered a fact about Jonah and Xavi and Cameron-
They used to go around reciting Monty Python until someone hit them on the head. Or threatened to.
I'm very sorry this is so bad, Cameron. I guess he deserves a better poem.
I remembered a fact about Jonah and Xavi and Cameron-
They used to go around reciting Monty Python until someone hit them on the head. Or threatened to.
© 2012 - 2024 MisfitableGrae
Comments4
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Actually, I'm 6'3 now..... jussayin