Be yourself.
My red and white mouse lost its tail
To the kitchen scissors.
Now it’s a bear.
Now its normal.
I’m normal.
Be yourself.
Rain pounds the windshield on the drive back from Homecoming.
He looks at me
With expecting eyes.
“I love you.”
I repeat it back
Like I’m supposed to.
Like I’m normal.
Be yourself.
I can’t find my dorm address.
I have to ask.
My feet carry me towards the desk.
My throat constricts.
My heart explodes.
It’s simple.
Just ask.
The words don’t come.
I walk past.
I’ll do it next time.
I’ll be normal.