bricks

it was called the longest cemetery in the world

millions of people died building the Great Wall China

the unemployed worked on the Wall,
poor farmers,
peasants,
they sent the convicts to the Wall

archaeologists found human remains buried under the Wall

the Chinese invented wheelbarrows and gunpowder,
the bricks were bound by rice flour.

the Wall is the longest manmade structure in the world, but
the Mongols had no problem getting through the Wall

millions lost their lives building this Wall,
and the Wall was discontinuous

the Mongols conquered northern China for twelve years
because the wall was discontinuous

people say that you can see the Great Wall from space,
like you can see the ocean,
and the copper mine

it's a myth

the naked eye cannot see the Great Wall of China
even from space.

during the Chinese cultural revolution, the Great Wall was seen as a sign of despotism;
[absolute power or control; tyranny]
the mothers and fathers sent their sons and their daughters to steal bricks from the Wall

the bricks bound by rice flour

the sons and the daughters took the bricks bound by rice flour for their farms or their houses

took bricks from the longest cemetery in the world

and now 50,000,000 humans walk on the graves of those killed by building their own coffin

with bricks bound by rice flour
millions of hours
only to be conquered
the discontinuity was reason for falter

holding hands; [typed on the spot when nothing else sounded right]

if i've ever seen you holding hands through the halls of high school, i've probably made great fun of you.

i'm sorry.

i've never liked holding hands.

i don't like seeing it, i don't like hearing/touching/smelling/tasting hand holding.

for a couple of months i like holding hands

but i must have been blinded with infatuation, because he drove a stick shift.

when i'm with a boy and i'm in the car, or watching a movie, etc.,  i hide my hands on my phone or between my legs or i hold my own hand.

high school hands are clammy or freezing or way too hot

sometimes hands smell weird, and i don't even want to know why,

so just keep them the * away from me.

-

once upon a time there sat a girl (me) in the middle of two siblings (not my siblings, but they were each others siblings) (i'm sorry if you're still reading this post)

we were watching a movie on a futon in my house

i asked my dad if i could rent a movie for $2.99 on OnDemand and

he said yes

so there we sat, watching a movie

i wanted to watch this movie because i wanted to show it to the boy sitting next to me. (his sister had already seen it, so i assume she was just there for the free popcorn)

i sat with my knees to my chest,

my arms folded

my shoulder touching the shoulder of the boy sitting next to me

the movie was rated PG-13. it was lovely.

there was a point during the film in which me and the boy sitting next to me covered each other's eyes, blaming it on the film being "bad," but i think maybe we just wanted to be touching each other's eyelids. 

because something about that made our heart's beat louder.

the film continued

i continued to laugh

as did the boy sitting next to me

Patrick and Charlie were yelling

they were on the hill in the middle of the night

and they were yelling and kissing and being confused and complicated and teenager to each other

and the boy sitting next to me grabbed my hand. 

he grabbed my hand and held it.

i looked to my left where he sat

but he didn't look back at me

he continued to watch

i've always hated holding hands

but for the first time since the blue moon broke my heart,

butterflies put my heart back together.

perfect symphony, we are a

a metronome in my chest
back and forth
back and forth
nose to nose
the tempo soars into the stars
hand in hand
the calm but inconsistent pulse
like a drum just off beat
pausing every time your hand squeezes mine
face to face
the metronome quickens
lip to lip
and the ticking stops
-
i breathe in as you breathe out
fitting together like a string to its bow
your hands the crescendo as the strings start to tune
mine the applause opening the show
our matching heart beats create a simple harmony
until your lips find mine
and the ticking stops

subpar

I remember how I loved it here.

last I left it, it was the happiest time of my life.

the most destructive kind of happy.

the most twisted kind of happiness that walks along with a twisted kind of love.

just like licorice, that love was sweet and red and so completely addictive.

it was an addiction and I craved the twisted love that he and I, me and him, shared.

I want to be happy here.

I am happy here.

I want to be here.

I want you to be my twisted love and forget my tangled past.

I want to learn how to write.

I want my hands to memorize the way it feels to write your name like the way they memorized what his hair felt like tangled between my fingers.

I want to replace here and him and that synthetic happiness with here and you and new.

I want to be held by you in the place he last broke me.

I want to read your eyes like a book and memorize the constellations in the galaxy that you are. 

I want to touch the stars and float on cloud nine.

I want to watch shooting stars with you next to me, to replace the taste those last shooting stars left in my mouth.

his voice is the best I've ever heard.

his voice is the most destructive in every sense of the word.

I crave the way we loved, but I crave it with you.

he's an epidemic and I am 1918 and everyone dies eventually.

hats

snapbacks and tattoos

snapchats and i love you's

the star football player writes poems, too

the star football player's hands shake like human's do

don't listen to me though

the star football player doesn't even know my name

and i don't even know who's on the football team

but i assume he has feelings too

under his snapbacks and maroon

when he gets caught for his snapchats or when the crowd boos

when her dad finds his texts or when Nels makes 'em look like a fool

i hate rhymes and he probably doesn't understand haiku's

maybe that's why the star football player doesn't even know my name

and why i don't know who's on the football team

because i wear hats to block the sun;

not to look cool.

the god you've created

To thine own self be true

Romeo and Juliet

Be true like the wine and bread

True to yourself,

But only if it's true to his God

To thine own self;

Be true to Him

Worship Him as a god

Be true to thine own self, if a woman loves a man

For if a Montague and a Capulet love each other then so be it

Let it be written as an epic love story.

For if a woman and another love each other,

She and she be damned.

Be true to thine leader

Not to thine own self

Deny thyself if you are a boy longing for another

A man longing for a man

Deny thyself if doubts arise

Silence your curiosity

To thine own self be true

But only if He approves