Rachel Wolfe 1

Apparently, I have always been crazy.

On Perfection

Sarah pulls on her hair, a coarse strand resistant to straightening. Sarah straightens her shoulders,

her pile of folders (in rainbow order) and draws an x on the desk with her thumb.

Sarah uncaps her pen, then she recaps it again. She starts to chew on the cap, sucks

in her stomach of fat

and then pulls out the coarse strand of hair.

Try Explaining Yourself to Yourself Stand in front of a bathroom mirror, too scary? Close your eyes. Societal trends and cultural norms whose influence, inescapable can only be escaped through influence, labeled (using words like societal and trends and escape.) Escape is the wrong word. Try: made tolerable.

Made bearable? Self-conscious

enough to care enough to notice, maybe, you disagree. (You need words to explain why.) Not to others, (youre not supposed to care about them) but to yourself.

From 7 oclock to 9 The Falling of Dusk

Rachel Wolfe 2

my thoughts cannot control my mind. I hold my breath. I count to ten... A cure for hiccups cant rewind a persistent, aching, hollow whine. My chest feels empty: its a sign of some great (not so) faraway decline of structure, order, and rigid lines. The walls of boxes make me defined. Why, oh why, wont my breathing align with the syncopation of the everyday kind? From 7 oclock to nine, I write a poem: An attempt to add structure (Ive become preoccupied with rhyme).

Quiet The slurp of that lady sipping makes me want to cry and, clearly, I dont know why. The sip is in no way sentimental. The old lady and I have never met. Its more of a how dare she produce that slurp when, clearly, Im trying to work. When, clearly, Im trying to escape the accusations hurled in haste;

Rachel Wolfe 3

the thoughts that bounce against the white walls of my mind. The crack of a knuckle or bounce of a ball down wooden stairs; The tap of a foot or murmur of a whisper; The drone of an air conditioner or hum of a washing machine; The little noises that people create when going about the business of living: The background noises that most people can ignore are, to me, magnified. Are, to me, deafening impossible to tune out. I once imagined a white room with white walls and white floors, a white ceiling and white air, a white pencil and white paper. I quite nearly went deaf in the attempt to fill the page. Now, I choose black: behind my eyes the second before I fall asleep, of a shade pulled down to cover the page. Quiet.

Two Girls

Two girls in a car. Two girls in a car driving slightly over the speed limit slightly too close to the right lane, driving over the speed limit and too close to the right lane at 11:30 PM

on a school night. Two girls in a car saying nothing. One silent girl pulling her knees up to her chest. One silent girl scratching a mosquito bite on her knee. One clearing her throat, wondering if a cough counts as breaking the silence. One girl staring out the window and seeing nothing worth describing.

Rachel Wolfe 4

One girl staring out the window and seeing nothing. One girl seeing nothing. One unseeing girl. One silent girl choking on silence. One girl gasping, gagging on the letter A

the point catching on her throat and slicing. One gasping, gagging girl. One unseeing girl staring at the girl gasping, gagging,

wanting to see, trying to see, failing to see. One blind girl wanting, trying, failing to see, waiting, wishing, for a sliver, a letter. One blind girl rubbing her temples, forgetting how to express her distress. One gasping, gagging girl putting the car in park. One blind girl resisting reaching for her seatbelt buckle. One blind girl refusing to run away, refusing to be pushed away. One girl refusing to be pushed away by the silence,

by the blackness, by her inability to see. One girl promising that shes there, that she wants to be there, that she has been there. One girl wanting to think that shes there. One gasping, gagging girl describing how she feels trapped. One trapped girl running out of hope,

asking whats the point of talking about a problem with no solution, asking whats the point of talking.

One trapped girl out of time, not wiping the tears from her eyes. One girl staring at the phone on the lap of the girl who is trapped,

thinking how fitting it is that the date (June 4th) is emblazoned atop the screen, thinking that this scene belongs in a movie and please, please not real life.

One trapped girl forgetting how to breathe,

choking not on a letter, but on the entire alphabet. One suffocating girl trying to speak, not able to speak, why cant she speak? One blind girl running out of knuckle cracks and foot taps to distract from the silence. One choking girl emitting one word at a time: I. Dont. Think. I. Will. Make. It. Through. Summer.

Look Looking for inspiration should elicit

strange looks of discomfort

from those who dont look under footsteps that

lag.

Rachel Wolfe 5

They wont wait as you wait for the shuffle and scrape of heartbreak

(whether real or fake).

A penny for your thoughts? Not even a pause. It was heads up, I checked.

12 Ways of Being Knowable

I. Sheet glass strangers slip through crowded newness. The purple-skirted girl slips in a puddle of spilled iced tea. II. Hello, nice to meet you. You look like someone I used to hate. Hello. III. Polka-dotted shadows dance atop naked walls.

Rat-a-tap-tap Just wanted to make sure your first night was going alright. IV. Awards and accomplishments falter. You are afraid of tomato sauce. V. We talked one time on Facebook mostly about your pet lizard named George. Who knew itd be so hard to ask, Hey, hows George? VI. Bitter, insomniatic bonding over I miss that toos start as peppermint goodbyes. VII.

Rachel Wolfe 6

Divided time into dozens plus dozens. Ill be there in 24, never 25. VII. Closest to sibling number seven and hated by seventeen. I had enough trouble living with two. IX. The person who isnt twirling hair or cracking knuckles or sliding rings or tapping feet or otherwise revealing. X. Backwards baseball cap and taking off your shoes in class. XI. Artificial rain drowns the sound of your drunken 1:00 AM whistling. XII. Handshake, or hug, or awkward wave. Wait, did you just try to kiss my cheek?

Undistinguishability If you had smelled like Listerine or soap or cinnamon or even weed (instead of a trace of my own shampoo) you could have been distinguishable. You know, others were also told the arbitrary details: A fear of tomato sauce and a nervous habit of highlighting an entire page. To others, Ive already answered: Scarsdale, a stereotypical suburban town,

Rachel Wolfe 7

Two: a sophomore and a 5th grader, A lawyer and Realtor, Indifferent towards animals. A future English teacher and Gabi, Caroline, and Solange. You see, this bed is too small for you and your predecessors. And cuddling doesnt always have the desired effect.

On Contemplation

Philosophers tend to forget about the possibility of over-thinking. In the haste to rationalize and re, re-prioritize nobody mentions what it feels like to wake up with a scream trapped inside your chest that cant be contemplated its way out. Hush, dont get into the gory details of open caskets and discontent, of the knowledge that, yes, life could be worse but also it could always be better.

Haiku

If youre never coming back then dont come back. Fuzzy blankets and some other comforts juxtapose critical thinking. Get up with care, push in the chair, ignore the general dysfunction and ignore the disorder. Do most people have to crisis manage their thoughts every hour or so? Remember: you cant control the rate at which leaves fall from autumn trees. Do your best impression of a person at peace until you yourself can be at peace. Details make a person knowable.

Rachel Wolfe 8

When theyre pre-recorded do they count? On the bench by the pond, I hide from myself.