Chapter 2 Freewrite and Poem

That night I felt sick. I was dating a boy named P.J, who I really wasn't interested in, but he was popular so that was good. I wanted to be popular after not being for my whole life at school. Now I was the sexy, daring girl and I liked that people thought I was a but un-touchable and mysterious. Libby, Kira, and Alyssa were going to sleep over, but Alyssa was the ring leader and the cool girl because she did drugs and drank alcohol. The fact that she had depression added to her complexity and made everyone want to be around her. We decided to go walk to meet her crush, Jake, who lived 10+ miles away, but we were only 14 and couldn't drive, so we decided to walk. We left at 11:45pm and made it to Kowalski's at midnight. They let us buy food and eat there. I think the boy who worked there thought we were cute. We left and continued walking and talking about 14 year old girl stuff, I guess. I don't remember what. I was wearing Vans, which are horrible for walking in especially long distance and I was dressed to score a date more than be warm, but that's just what we all did back then. I knew something was up with me because I was slightly dizzy.



I am Datable



That night I felt sick. A fever had nestled in my head

like a grey mattress taken over by elevated temperature and numbness,

slowing traffic of electric neurons to the frontal lobe,

a center still under construction. The fire-pit,

heat grabbing at my knees, blew smoke over my eyes

with a behind-the-stage nonchalance one might expect from Prince.

Yet the stone slate under me pierced my bottom with a pained cold,

freezing bone and little fat I had.



My red headed, lanky boyfriend

played the deep rumble of Chocolate Rain inside to his friends, not mine,

warm and secret away from heavy smoke,

freezing slates.



His presence was an accent,

a fashionable trophy signifying my victory,

a plaque reading "I AM DATABLE" we both received

as a result of our union,



but he was inside, with his friends,

laughing over flickering lights and CRT screens

and I was outside, with my friends,

complaining about smoke, heat, and cold.

The Power of Names

Tehislreb Adzaens

Tyrian purple robes, silk at home.
Every night at 6 years old, a never ending library and golden staircase; an old book for a new adventure.
Heater, Hallmark cards, harrowingly clustered,
"Interesting," I say to my boyfriend, as he tells me again how much people are assholes.
Sedentary, once spry.
Listens to comedians on the computer, a new recipe for a diet I'm not on.
Rising out of bed, someday I'll
Every old stuffed animal, computer, heater, guardian horse on my shelf, bed
Brown shoes, baggy pants, tight shirt
Another plate of rice and fried tuna
Deer--often found in my backyard--found my tomatoes again
Zombies never scared me
And I never liked being called "Beth"
Energy can claim
Nahja, my former cat
See the moon and drink it.


Elizabeth Sanders

Every night I climb a never ending spiral staircase,
Listen to comedians on my phone, a new recipe for a diet I'm not on.
"Interesting," I'll say to myself, but
Zombies always scared me
And I never liked being called dead.
Brown shoes, baggy pants, tight shirt,
Every old stuffed animal and guardian horse, robed in
Tyrian purple, silk at home.
Heaters, Hallmark cards, harrowingly clustered and habituated--myself,
Sedentary, once spry,
Another plate of rice and fried tuna, adored by
Nahja, my former cat.
Deer--often found in my backyard--found my tomatoes again.
Energy can storm.
Rising out of bed, someday I'll
See my opportunity and drink it.