Feelings Before Telling You About My Feelings.
 

how many cigarettes can I smoke
in an empty bathtub dirty bathtub
rings around the outside are a strange border
before it occurs to me--
i haven't got anything on,
but i haven't the strength to turn the water on

I'm always halfway there.
A record skipping like the answers
to questions you asked me yesterday.

hands in there on my bed
every time hoping you'll walk in
so i can tell you i think of you
i don't wear underwear
so it's my jeans that are wet when i'm around you
other people would call me eloquent
but i put my face between my knees and stutter
my face gets hot and the back of my neck hurts
around you.

I feel like this could be better if it were less "teenagery," but I like it too much right now to edit it.
I probably will, in time.

Nothing at all special. I'm angry, too, because this is the first one you've posted in a while.
You even evoked a "broken record"- even if you didn't do so in the most typical context, it's still a cliche, Oph.

Aw, I liked that.

But yeah.
I still think it's a sweet poem.
Sweet like Mandy Moore or a puppy.

Yeah, it'd be an okay singer-songwriter ditty or something.

I'm so depressed.

Definately not the best and definately not the worst...

You know what the poem gives me? The fact you're tired as fuck of a lot of things.

Ophelia, I'd love to see you write a poem that isn't about either love or emotional states. You're genuinely good with words and images, but the repetitive subject matter bogs you down.

Heh, I actually have/do, but I don't post them here, and haven't written anything like that in a while.

Oh, no, I'm way too full of myself to even consider writing about anything that doesn't directly link to me.

Yeah, hot shot, I have.
I don't post everything I write here.

Then for the love of god, woman, post 'em here. Unless they're about rocks.

I request that Underwater Ophelia posts her vast library of rock poems immediately.

Maybe in time.