t. is for tired, January 2000

1999 halt 40001

To celebrate the new millennium

we shot off fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

I breathed in the cold midnight air,

hoping for big changes.

I ripped up the tickets

to the Picasso exhibit in Atlanta, on a trip

to visit my roommate this January.

I’m tired of waiting for her call.

I swallowed my bitterness

when I heard the announcement

my bedroom would be vacated.

I’m tired of trying so hard to please.

I must find my own place

even if I need to max out my credit cards

or maybe drop out of school to afford it.

I’m tired of the desperate loneliness

that gnaws me hollow.

I don’t care anymore

who I meet,

whether they smoke or drink or fool around

or don’t believe in God.

It’s a new millennium

and it’s time for a brand-new me.

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