Nine months and twenty-one days ago
longer than a baby
about the time it takes for a book to move out of the slush pile
a little longer than you need
to walk across America and back
(assuming ten hour walks at two miles per hour)
I wrote a poem
about chocolates and almonds and myself.
It was followed, soon after
by more
about two crushes, lost,
a crush that turned into a boyfriend,
my sister, bullying, a stalker,
sex, college, death, fate.
And then I stopped, and
(after a brief hiatus)
started again
about my family, more bullying, nightmares, gayness and the Bible,
and being a shoulder to cry on.
I took more time, after,
because at the time, the word "Excuses" made me flinch in pain,
and so finally I wrote a haiku
to get it over with.
Then more.
About revenge, love, tears and chemistry, my muses,
regret,
the Internet
and again "Failure" stopped me
for another time.
And then rebirth (actually, college), college again, love (again), the Bible (again),
friendship,
darkness,
the Bible and
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