My Honest Poem


I don’t know how to ride a bike without training wheels. There was always too many homework assignments to complete, too many schoolboys to wave at, too many handshakes to learn.

I’ve been in love once. He had long eyelashes and cold hands. I regret nothing.

I’m bad at remembering names and eye colors. As a rule of thumb, I will always guess Sarah and brown.

Sometimes hot chocolate is too sweet for me. I think that’s a sign of me getting old.

I have a little sister. She has big hopes and nice hair.

I get hiccups when I’m nervous. I get hiccups often.

I’m allergic to strawberries.

Every windowsill in my house has a potted plant. Sometimes there are ladybugs. Most of the time there are ants.

My shoelaces are all bunny ears double-knotted.

I think my voice is too loud. It echoes when it shouldn’t.

My parents fell in love years ago. Sometimes it feels like eons. But sometimes it feels like they’re still sixteen. Especially when my mom laughs.

When my dad sneezes, the house shakes like an earthquake. It makes me feel like I’m living life on the edge.  

I have one signature dance move. I save it for special occasions.

I’ve only watched one harry potter movie, but I’ve read all of the books.

I don’t have a good taste in music.

And I still sleep with a teddy bear. And leave cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve. I know my dad eats them, but I can’t help but believe Santa snags a few himself.

My handwriting tilts to the left. I’m a taurus. I don’t know what that says about my personality.

My first kiss was rushed and forced and anticlimactic. I don’t even remember his name.

When I was younger, I wanted to be a farmer because I love broccoli. I still do. Broccoli, that is. Not the farmer.

I fall asleep easily. I have a lot of dreams. I don’t know if that’s a sign of naivety or admirable hope in the future. I hope it’s the latter.


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