Pancake Batter Lips
BY ZOE NELMS
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
His goatee looks like coffee stains on stubbly skin
and he talks funny, walks funny, acts funny
when I call him names he just laughs
and smiles.
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
who cooks pancakes at four in the afternoon
and when he kisses me
he tastes like batter and the remnants of
minty toothpaste.
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
who gets winded when he climbs
the stairs to the apartment
he laughs but you can see
his bones are uncooked pasta and if you touch him he’ll break.
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
because he’s not always there
when I need him to be
his coughs and wheezing the only music
I ever listen to.
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
Mom calls and asks if I’m okay
Johnny with his paper thin lungs
and diamond smile
answers for me (we’re fine.)
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
with those ragged fingernails that grasp
at my palm as he breathes (or tries to)
brown beanie over the last of dark curls
inky hair falling fast like snowflakes
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
because he didn’t say anything when
he was gone and his lips were light
and he didn’t smile
and I still loved him.
It’s not easy loving a loser like Johnny
because I was crying and I was alone
and I want to smell and taste
his pancake batter lips.
It wasn’t easy loving a loser like Johnny.
It never was.
About the Author
Zoe Nelms lives in New York City and is currently a sophomore at Avenues: The World School. She writes because she gets to essentially create her own world and manipulate reality, which you can’t normally do with anything else, as well as the fact that she can explore a multitude of emotions and experiences without having to experience them personally.
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