Monday Mornings Are A Lie

It’s hard to tell what’s real,

walking through these halls.

At least not me.

Not for a long time now.

There is so much grey.

They try to dispel it with the blue,

the school blue, the “true school blue,”

and it doesn’t work.

There is grey.

The grey seems real.

I also think that

in the bathroom stalls

the words “fuck you” are real,

and the phone numbers.

Call me.

For real?

I am somewhere, else.

Ghosts and ghosts and ghosts.

I am hovering over a girl

with a curtain of brown hair

and she’s shuffling,

books in her arms.

She knows I’m here.

She might be me.

She might be no one

at all.


11 thoughts on “Monday Mornings Are A Lie

  1. Shudder. You’ve done an exquisite job of capturing the horrible reality of school. Flinch. Jutter. Shiver. Flashback city, babe. School PTSD. Thanks. I think.
    All the best. From a homeschool mom.

    1. Oh, it is a horrible reality. A nasty, nasty reality. People aren’t exaggerating when they talk about high school. Sorry about reminding you of all it.

      At least there’s an out at the end. I know things are waiting, past this. Can’t wait to meet them.

      Thanks Alice,


      1. No one is exaggerating, I’m afraid. Sorry you’re there for now. Out will be better if you can dissolve the trained-in walls from your consciousness. This can take a while. But I think you have a head start. Keep writing. This is the key.

  2. Natalie,

    You leave me without words adequate to say what I want to say.

    You are a poet of capacity so beyond your years. Happily, you seem unaware of the thought that you can’t be this good, this young.

    Just keep writing. Never stop. Never doubt. Never over-think. Just write.


    1. Tom,

      This was the nicest thing to hear today – on a Tuesday morning sadly resembling a Monday one. Your support is so important to me.

      Okay. I’ll never stop 🙂

      Thanks again,


Thoughts? I love those.

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