what the light was like

The days still feel like weeks, with this whole not eating thing. Which, in many ways, is only getting frustrating.

My roommates were both participating with me in this fast, and they both went off it yesterday (well, I kind of went off it myself, via the eating of two loaves of bread, but I decided to go back on). One of my roommates decided to clean house, eating every bit of immediately accessible food! (including peanut butter, orange juice, and some chili I made).

My other roommate bought a pizza. Evidently, we all suck at nutrition. In other news, I started singing lessons last week, and I am a horribly self-conscious person, prone to starting something, getting really good at it, then quitting because I start to feel too insecure... ever since high school (that particular list includes guitar, football, shotput, writing prose, and swing dancing).

This, I have promised myself, will not be one of those times. And now, a poem that has nothing to do with what I just said (until next time):

three small lights

my life is like three small Christmas lights,
(and many other things).
holding the house together with low glowing warmth.
keeping things together.

all our friends are getting married,
and I'll stay much the same.
I'll go on trying to be fine with my life,
always feeling about halfway there.

I'll be one who keeps the lights on tonight,
not the one trying hard not to cry.
even when clouds part, or light covers window,
and I'll find her soon, I know I will,
the unassuming girl in a white paper dress.

We'll wake up the same, though tomorrow I'm still single-
we'll pick up books and play words in the morning,
wake up next to metaphors and verse.
the tracing of arms and quiet hands,
the hiding and painting mystery in covers.

all my lights are making plans.
We'll all stay friends, then love somehow happens.
I'll serve coffee downtown, toss rocks at nameless shapes of water,
and I'll forget everything I've assumed about "beautiful".

We're all still trying to figure out what love is like.