On One Hand

October 15, 2004

To all the girls and boys

Filed under: Uncategorized — ononehand @ 12:52 am

You know, you really are beautiful. I’m not quite a poet (maybe I will be someday?) so I don’t how to say this right, but it’s hard to feel all this yet not speak of you in silvery tones of reflection. Do you know that I was watching you the day the playground kids whipped you with their thirsty eyes and wicked thoughts? I wept for you, just as I wept for myself when I was in your place. I didn’t try to stop them. But the blood they spilled was their own, and I figure we’d all best forgive ourselves for being too young and too stupid and letting it happen.

I’m afraid too, and I don’t know if it’s even worthwhile to get past all that. Worried about what we might descend to, worried about what we might never be, worried about hoping our hands can reach out and find each other even though it’s dark. But there’s too little time to worry about worry. We both walk a little wobbly, glancing at our awkward reflections in the windows of the shops on Main Street and wondering if the faint silhouette of ourselves is really how they see us. There must be a difference, we hope we’re being pessimistic, but we know better.

It was by such accident, that we lost our innocence. One minute we’re sitting alone picking dandelions in a soccer field and the next we’re fucking behind the rose bushes. Imagine our mothers’ faces if they’d caught us. We were only having fun, being children, then we stepped back and realized what we just did and that we’d changed – we’re not allowed in the kindergarten room anymore. They kept us out, so we convinced ourselves that we were too old for blocks and crayons anyway. We convinced ourselves that it was better to have faults and responsibility than no faults and no responsibility. But I, for one, can say there’s a part of me that misses the way it was.

Jesus, was that us catching crawdads in the creek that day, getting our hi-tops wet? Was that us playing double-dutch and hopscotch on the black top? Was that us so innocently doing dirty things to ourselves under the covers? I think we lost ourselves a little since then, chasing after posterity. But you know, you lose one thing, we lose one thing, we gain another. It’s something cold and achy that we gain, it’s clinging like cockleburrs to the insides of our chests, but but maybe if we wrap our arms around each other and hold real tight we can make it warm. We can melt it, I hope, and though the evidence suggests otherwise I’m keeping the light on in case you come. You can do it, I feel it, I know it. You can do anything. Because you really are beautiful.



  1. See, that’s why I love you so much.

    Comment by Anonymous — October 15, 2004 @ 11:44 am | Reply

  2. My heart was thumping through the last two paragraphs.

    Comment by calevert — October 15, 2004 @ 2:24 pm | Reply

  3. hi. i’m looking through your journal and you seem quite interesting, and i like this entry.

    Comment by paisleyspandex — October 15, 2004 @ 2:48 pm | Reply

    • Jesus Christ I looked at your journal from the library at school… couldn’t reach the “back” key fast enough to avoid a few awkward glanses. I’ll look again when I’m in a safer place.

      From what I saw, you seem interesting too. And I’m glad your thoughts are positive. Don’t be a stranger.

      Comment by ononehand — October 15, 2004 @ 6:35 pm | Reply

  4. oh how much that hits home

    Comment by im_just_a_boy — October 15, 2004 @ 3:53 pm | Reply

  5. re : dogs actually knowing its bacon ; yet not caring

    Good afternoon!

    I agree with ‘paisleyspandex’ ; I was just flipping (heh, well, virtually flipping) through your journal and a came across your words, nestled up like a abandoned beehive in an empty field, and had to stop and read them. You are a good poet! (*and a vegetarian *and like Ani Difranco, if the ‘userinfo’ is to be believed). Thank you so much for sharing. It is all good. Okay.

    Take care!
    * Geoff

    Comment by twilightboy — October 19, 2004 @ 2:51 pm | Reply

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