mush potato.

~

My black and blue scrawls
dance all over the page
Ignoring the smooth straight lines across the paper
Scribbling themselves into your name
Jake Jake Jake
into little hearts that always come in eighteens
and strawberries with uneven lines for eyes.

Half my face crushed between my palm
and the weight of my head
Sleepyhead, wake up
and the other half desperately trying to hide underneath tangled hair with faded highlights.

Algebra Algebra Algebra
I was never good with math
And the little girl in me never understood
why my abc's had threaded their way into all the numbers.

The heat's dizzying me
and you glance my way as I sway when I try to stand
Goodbye and Thank You we chorus
and Good Riddance to you and your abc-infested numbers.

You make your way towards me and glance at my notes
All your numbers are mushed together.
Mashed. Like mashed potato.
No, mush. Mush potato.
No such thing! But it's not really a fight
And I try to explain
that potatoes are mashed
Mashed, I tell you! Not mush.

And then you pin me to the back of my chair
and you kissmekissmekissme
And we forget all about mush potatoes
and my scattered inky scrawls.

~