Pocketing Memories With Pieces of Lint

An implicative memory hangs limply on a coat hanger
Wrap it around my shoulders and move on
I forget it’s there until I remember
When no other words are processing,
I remember.

Compose myself with sips of water
and splashes of reality
Then go back to the class and settle down

Lint balls collect and I pick them off
Feeling guilty for losing the little bits left of you
I pocket them,
and they begin to collect
like the congealing memories

I feel guilty about you becoming a memory
You should be more than pieces of lint
collecting in my pocket

I wrap myself up in the smells of every memory
that I will not let fade away

and all I have is the vague smell of home and
lint balls that remind me of you


“So tell me about yourself”


That one question gets on my nerves. I don’t know why, but to me it is one of the hardest questions to answer. Whenever someone asks me that my mind just rushes into action to find something. I think it has to do with the person you are talking to. Like when I am trying to impress someone, like a boyfriend, or their parents, or a person I really want to be friends with, I tend to panic more with that question, than I do when someone whom I don’t care for asks me.

In 10th grade I switched schools, and the first day there I got that question asked a lot and by the end of the day I felt as if I was going through a life crisis. It was not my favorite feeling of that time in life. I clearly remember orientation, we sat around in a circle, in the room I now know as Gary’s history room, I think there was 8 people in the room. None of whom I’m good friends with now. We had to go around the circle and say the things we were interested in and what we liked to do in our past time, which is basically so tell me about yourself but hidden in a different format. As the question grew closer and closer to me I became more panicky. I tired to pick something funny to say, but I was too nervous for humor. So when it came to me words about Ac/Dc and spider-man flew out of my mouth without me realizing. Being a scared, awkward, 15 year old girl I was, I was embarrassed at what I said. In my old school people would tease me for liking that stuff. But unlike my old school I wasn’t judged for doing that.