labordays.
bike rides. zelda. sun. long walks. lafayette. beer. people. tofu nuggets. naps. snuggle. beer pong. wonderful parties. friends. african-american studies minor. school. dubs. thirty dollars in the street. running through fountains. wabash trails. really really free markets. beer tabs. creeps.
Thoughts go unspoken,
the N64 sits un-played by the TV with
its blue tent glowing.
The word VIDEO still floating in the right hand corner.
Big and green, still haunting.
The Zelda cartridge that we worked
so hard to find is lodged in
the system as tightly as I am in your bed with you.
The controller sits a foot away, gray in color,
cord tangled, tangled like our legs under cover.
The baby blue nap blanket that has witnessed
so much now shields us from the world
and takes us somewhere better.
The red teddy bear that I gave you on
our first Valentines Day
lays un-cared for on the floor, but when I’m gone,
it takes my place. You and Me states the heart it holds by its chest.
The decorative pillows that once made
your bed look so innocent are now strewn across the floor
as if thrown off in a violent rage.
The screen still blue and the glow just as soft.
VIDEO brands us.
Brands us with a smug satisfaction.
The dressers and nightstand sit like
shadows in the dark, black as the oil spill that
happened the night before.
Un-opened schoolbooks still linger in the same
place as they were dropped when the school day ended.
Momentarily, we feel it is more important.
Worn clothes, empty water bottles, silly drawings.
It makes this ours.
Safe from everything outside of these talking walls-
in our little room.
Thoughts go unspoken,
the N64 sits un-played by the TV with
its blue tent glowing.
The word VIDEO still floating in the right hand corner.
Big and green, still haunting.
The Zelda cartridge that we worked
so hard to find is lodged in
the system as tightly as I am in your bed with you.
The controller sits a foot away, gray in color,
cord tangled, tangled like our legs under cover.
The baby blue nap blanket that has witnessed
so much now shields us from the world
and takes us somewhere better.
The red teddy bear that I gave you on
our first Valentines Day
lays un-cared for on the floor, but when I’m gone,
it takes my place. You and Me states the heart it holds by its chest.
The decorative pillows that once made
your bed look so innocent are now strewn across the floor
as if thrown off in a violent rage.
The screen still blue and the glow just as soft.
VIDEO brands us.
Brands us with a smug satisfaction.
The dressers and nightstand sit like
shadows in the dark, black as the oil spill that
happened the night before.
Un-opened schoolbooks still linger in the same
place as they were dropped when the school day ended.
Momentarily, we feel it is more important.
Worn clothes, empty water bottles, silly drawings.
It makes this ours.
Safe from everything outside of these talking walls-
in our little room.