Reach into the box. What do you feel? Cut, freeze, burn your hand. Contents overflow, scattering on the floor around you, identically disparate, the sickly sweet, spicy hot, too hot, frozen taste on your tongue. You’re alone. Bandage your hand, clean up the floor, close the box. You’re alone.
I'm a math major daring to write.
What don't you know?
Your fame here.
I'm a woman daring to be strong.
I'm a conformer daring to create.
I'm a contradiction daring to live.
I hope you don’t know
you cross my mind.
It’s just that a crossing,
you’re gone in no time.
I don’t want you to think
I ought to care anymore.
Any feeling I have—
They’re thrown back out the door.
So yeah, I think about you
more often than I’d like.
The fact that I’m writing this
won’t change my life.
I just wanted you to know
that I refuse to care about you.