Imprudent

They are like those jittery critters 

Creepy critters, but cute 

Cute creepy critters

Jumping in jovial joy

I suppose they’re usually called butterflies

Inside the stomach of an adolescent girl watching some impending event 

It’s probably some boy, some symbol of synchronized similarity 

That this is real 

That is a past that hurts —

It hurts to return by words, or to have him talk to me about it 

There seems to be a struggle with words as I attempt to put something down 

There is little eloquence that comes with that facile wave of a graceful wand painting letters of nothing 

And pretending there is meaning

Tonight I am staring at this screen — wondering whether this frilly type of worry is healthy 

I am not too certain what fits best as an expatiation of the beautiful ineffability, I merely continue to efface side after side until something sounds fine 

So there lies little assurance that the stupid teenage girl can be okay, that she can exist like a distant ghost hovers above a soul — as that has been spoken it rests as some haunting — I don’t want that certainly 

Certainly certainly 

I think I want the days to just pass 

So that he may meet my family and I may meet his 

So that some desicion of certainty may be made 

So that I can grow up and feel at ease that

If not escape here then there 

Patience isn’t from me, nothing is I must be certain 

Ah, I cannot formulate words 

I am so certainly stupidly excited. 
endnote: this feature photo is my art and photography 

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