:: Article

two poems

By Allyson Stronach.

all the things I ever wanted for myself like being really intelligent and having really good taste in music and food and being pretty and being pretty and being nice and having “kind eyes” that don’t lie and being healthy and disease free and making good choices and being without a boyfriend and reading a bunch I recently found out was so I could impress other people which means that I’ve been spending way too much time with other people to actually do all these things.

when I was younger 

I used to think that I really came from another dimension but somehow got stuck in this one. 

and everyone in the other dimension could see me in that dimension still, 

but doing the things that I do in this dimension. 

so if I was singing a song in this dimension, 

they would see me singing that song in that dimension, 

but if they tried to push me or sing along, 

I wouldn’t be able to feel them or hear them or anything. 

I also thought that in this way I was introducing new things like music into that dimension, 

because apparently, they don’t have music. 

this gave purpose to all the mundane parts of my life. 

even as a five year old. 

like me pulling weeds made this other dimension go, 

“what is she doing with her hands (or whatever)” 

and it also made me feel like 

I was important enough to be studied by this other dimension, 

like that is what I would be remembered for over there: 

the girl stuck in that other dimension where everything is new and strange and also interesting. 

but really, if that were true in this dimension, 

I did know about that other dimension 

which discredits the whole experiment. 

like how when I have a photo taken of me I always have that face like, 

“I know you’re about to take a picture so I’m going to try to make this look as natural as possible. 

as naturally pretty as possible” 

which also discredits the whole candid thing. 

I also used to think that everything had a soul. 

like I would feel bad for the book that gets shut up in a box. 

“it’s not the book’s fault that its not good enough to be on the shelf. it’s the authors fault.” 

and so I would spend a lot of time taking the book out of the box and giving it attention 

to make it feel better. 

or wanted. 

or something. 

a psychiatrist would ask me if I was the book. 

maybe I was. 

or am. 

I don’t know. 

all I know is that this feeling of not being good enough for myself makes me feel 

sad and boring. and like I need to be alone. 

like I have never tried hard enough 

but always thought I had, which kept me from trying even harder, which makes me think that I don’t really know what trying is. 

and 

I don’t think I’m from another dimension and I also don’t know if purpose really exists or if I want to be remembered for anything. 

but 

I do like to write, even if it’s just boring, sad writing.

 

I will learn how to be alone and it will hurt a lot, probably.

which is not worse than a nervous turtle being dropped on my head by
a large bird of prey
from very high up my head
probably looks a lot like a sharp rock.
I guess this has happened before
but hopefully
after I learn to be alone, nervously,
I wont be dead or retarded.

sometimes, as a dead person,
I think about the nervous turtle
and I look him up on facebook
because he is an over-achieving nervous turtle,
but now,
due to the fall
he is an over-achieving retarded
nervous turtle
who had that new chip installed in his brain
that lets him control the
mouse of a computer with
his nervous, retarded brain
but so his facebook account is still really shitty.

I see this and I cry dead-people tears
and I think about various things
rapidly flying at my nervous face
before I am reincarnated into
a hungry bird of prey
that learns how to be alone
by letting go of nervous things
and never hungrily seeing or
touching them again. 

noises.jpg

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 
Allyson Stronach is cutting class and writing this right now. She is a poetry editor for The MeadoW based out of Reno, Nevada and enjoys rock climbing and organic sweet corn, science, bandana-covered faces, and also enjoys school on most days.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Sunday, October 7th, 2007.