true stories

blaaaaargh

i.
my arms are getting so sore from holding this camera
up to my eyes. i tell myself the world looks better
like this, but i think it's my black-and-white
film nostalgia that make it seem that way.

ii.
i remember when my mother read me storybooks before bedtime.
"pat the bunny" was my favorite, but i was always afraid.
i thought the rabbit was real and would bite my finger
if i got too close. i thought i was the only one who remembered,
but she does too.

iii.
i want to write you a letter
in my own handwriting, so you can tell it's me
in cursive, so you know i am flawed
in ink, so you can see exactly where i mess up
in a notebook, so you can read between the lines.

iv.
they say the human eye is proof of intelligent design
it is too complex to be left up to chance, to evolution.
what about the human heart?
it beats and pumps blood straight to my fingertips
but science doesn't say why it felt like shards
of glass splintered inside of me when a boy broke it

Author's Note

any constructive crit is welcome!