in her dreaming and sleep
and her lovers walk
through in their coats"
psych. furs.
life.
at the school locker gossiping about the cute boys or just listening in...
the gym class where you sweat over getting picked last...
or wondering if anyone can tell you have your period...
hoping you have enough courage to ask your secret 3 year crush to sign your yearbook...
crying at Mom's pick for your 8th grade dance outfit...
daydreaming during 7th period english class of what'll happen freshman year in high school...
dodging the bullets of gossip, cliques, and mean girl tactics, you roll on through wearing your mens ties and shirts, baggy pants, and jazz dance shoes. you think entire album sides while watching the scenery flow by on the yellow school bus. your mind the iPod. you fold and unfold the yellowing letter he wrote, stuffed with adolescent poems and stickers and bowie song quotes...
sweet seventeen and the beginning of the end. you're shocked none of your favorite teachers ever told you what it really all was about. gorgeous blue-eyed blonde guys always ready to ski and boast 3.8 GPAs, scary suitemates from out on the island always stuck in "wish you were here" and "relax, you'll feel a little pin prick", the 9th floor view of campus and watching the fat snowflakes fall to the B side of Low...
awkward
tender
silly
pathetic
sickly romantic
overly dramatic and intense
desperate
dumb
Mr. Hughes captured his inner teen and put it on film for all of us to see. Thank you and Rest In Peace.