face the jury.

summer is almost over and i’m not ready for fall.
i registered for school yesterday.
tomorrow is textbooks and job applications.
oh, life.

i’m pretty sure the world is ending.
the red cross wants my blood, and they can certainly have it.

love is silly.
and i’m impatient.

some girls are just numbers.
i’ve learned that.
some girls are not much more than a week,
a poem, a night of drunken kisses and
my halfhearted hands fumbling in the darkness.

some girls are distraction pure and simple,
lust or boredom and most things in between.

but you.
you’re food that fills me up and leaves me
wanting more.
you’re good food that sticks to my ribs
and keeps me warm on long nights,
some meal i could eat every day,
i could be a creature of habit
for your taste on my tongue
and fingers.

i’m almost tired of writing about it.