Leah Nation

Brrrrring.
Borrrrinnnng.
Ugh.
Diary age 15.
I woke up with daydream cobwebs in the closet of my eyes.
No, woke up with headache djembe in the bleachers of my head.
Nevermind.
I was taking a sleeping exam and I threw up in the teacher’s hair. How was my own hair?
I looked in my shattered mirror expecting to find myself looking back at myself but I wasn’t.
Instead, 17 versions of myself were staring back at me. As if I needed that. One of them was sticking her tongue out at me. One of them was horrified by me.
  I changed into my overalls (Dungarees is what my British friend calls them. I call them Kangaroos). Also a white t-shirt which says “the last great act of defiance”and has a giant hawk swooping down to rip apart a mouse but the mouse is covering his eyes and giving the hawk the middle finger. A Christmas present from my perverted brother.   I ran a comb through my hair but then lost it.
I looked at my door eyes half awake. There was an uplifting beam of light pouring all around the seams that brought positive energy to a dark and negative room. A room with soda cans and socks that belonged to other people, green mud slinging monsters, and ketamine. A room so dirty that the insects now have unleashed a legion of rebellion open fire against the sole perpetraitor of the mess …moi.
f**k it. I’m a giant.
a giant..
loser.

Reviews

[Em]

I absolutely love this. It is filled with great imagery. I enjoyed every second of reading this. You have true talent. I love how your poetry tells stories, and stories that are so interesting and make you want to keep reading. I am looking forward to reading more and more of you work. It is very different than most of the work I have read on this site, it's magnificent. BRAVO!

[Richard]

wow, thank you VERY much I am grateful to hear that :)

[Em]

You're very welcome.