The Music of My First Love

In the collision of the night
Memories of my first love reemerge.
It was no trick of the mind,
But one of flesh and chords
Singing to me the depths of The Ocean:
I wouldn't have let go of that beautiful body for any reason.
Not for the chorus of warnings
"Mistakes we knew we were making"
His verses held the fantisies of love,
I wanted so badly to be true.
And never did I imagine
My disregard would lead to our demise.
We held on by six strings, each snapping
One by one,
From the tightening tension of notes.
The end of our song came with great pain,
But no suprise.

"Dork"

They call me "dork"
Because I prefer reading the SEVENTH Harry Potter book
As opposed to going to a party
Of people I don't know.
They call me "dork"
Because I get bored watching TV;
Unless of course those shows are:
Golden Girls, NINJA WARRIOR, or Invader Zim.

Maybe I am a dork.
If a dork stays home on weekends to catch up on homework and sleep.
If a dork reads excessively,
Can understand The Iliad,
Knows who WROTE The Iliad,
Cares more about the history test then my next boyfriend,
Than yes I am a dork.

I spend time with my family rather than go out with friends.
Sometimes I'm not even with my family, just sitting in bed.
I go to church every Sunday,
Love going to the Guggenheim on Summer days,
Listen to Billy Joel on a regular basis,
And yes,
I spent all Summer memorizing "We Didn't Start the Fire".
Because I'm such a dork.

If this is what makes me a dork,
Than the dorkiest part of all:
Is I genuinely enjoy,
Being a dork.

A Look at the Future

A look of utter naivety escapes your eyes,
You had no idea what life held for you then,
Maybe that explains your careless, teenage posture.
Another image of a person I know nothing about.
I hardly recognize the girl with a flower in her long dark hair.
She's smiling so freely;
A smile I've never seen before.
The beauty resonating through the photograph,
Stays with me at all times.
And then I wonder,
"Is this what my daughter will see?"