she reminds me of carhartt sweatshirts and chuck taylors,
and they remind me of rebellion
and when i think about rebellion it's like i undergo a subconscious debate--
there's a disagreement, an uprising, a battle ensues
and i'm drafted--
back to a time when i was unsure

and awkward and frumpy and

i'm reminded that at some point i suffered an emotional holocaust
my flagship was sunk off the coast of self-doubt
and at that moment, when i needed them most -- my allies retreated to higher ground

it wasn't until much later -- i would learn
that they didn't retreat
or betray me
they just assumed i could handle myself

and it wasn't until later -- i would learn
about assumptions

and what they do -- to people

you see, i assumed that she knew about the sweatshirt
that i left hanging in my closet
and how she was the last person to wear it
and how her scent was all over it
and how she affected me in an epicenter i would later learn
was my heart--

the exhausted valve in my chest that i wear like a hooded sweatshirt
with blotted paint stains
a hole in the elbow
a typewritten love letter folded in fourths tucked in the pouch
and her scent -- her scent is written all over it
spattered like photograph memories and typewriter ink--the ribbon kind
so that every time you think of her it's keystrokes
slamming letters
into ink
onto paper
leaving impressions

that remind me of footprints
and footprints remind me chuck taylors
and every time i think of chuck taylors i'm reminded of carhartt sweatshirts
and i wonder
if she mistakenly assumed
that i left my heart hanging in that closet because i had given up on her

and i wonder if she later learned -- about assumptions
and what they do -- to people

04/17/2008

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Posted on 04/17/2008
Copyright © 2024 Frankie Sanchez