Poetry by Dythandra

Your Fall from Grace

You're staying for the summer,
My favorite cousin
Part of the parentals' plan
To "restore" me.

You seemed... more complex, before.

Now there's the hour of painting, filing, curling
Each morning, with pit stops throughout the day.

While we used to bond,
Now there's uncomfortable silence.

You meet the boy who runs the outdoor camps.
Seems his assistant backed out--he's desperate for help.
You talk about him to your friends back home
You don't know about my silent extension.

I also hear your laughs
At the expense of your "pathetic little wannabe vampire" cousin.

I don't complain when you propose to leave
All comforts of home shed for a month
While you help 10 year olds paddle a kayak.

Too bad you're careless.
Should've hidden that myspace password more
When you typed it five times a day.
Should've looked over to my window
When you got friendly down on the porch
With Mr. Wilderness.

Does he know about the boy back home?

My mother looks at me sadly.
Her hopes dashed, and fearing my summer
Somehow ruined.

I smile bravely, and retreat to my room.
It's a gradual process, this destruction.

I find I enjoy being electronic you:

You're rude to your friends when you comment
Your blog details new friends and their chemicals
You ask your boy back home for more space
And Paris-like, you post the nightvision shots
Of your cozy times on the veranda.

Of course, the phone calls from worried or angry friends
Find only voicemail--
No phones or computers allowed
In Camp Wannagebizzee

It's a good month;
You return suntanned and smiling.
I hope camp boy has the internet
You're going to have lots of free time
When you get home.