SCRIPPS

Scripps College is the #6 happiest college in the nation according to The Daily Beast. And CMC, Harvey Mudd, and Pomona rank above us. I love where I go to school. West Coast best coast.

Picnic

Hot. Summer. I went in Lake Michigan twice yesterday and it was numbing.

The End, Pathetically

tha ump tah ump tah ump lets me know that my time us up

that something must move past the

iron grate lips that

prevent me from uttering what's on my mind,

that is fervently whispering memories, corrupting my balance.

I barely remember how your lips taste;

though I think of the moment behind glass

more of an observation that an actual

movemenet of the flashing flesh.

But my rememory

feels the oils in your curls

as you cup my jawbone

like no other man has done since.

I imagine wine filled nights to no end with the iron springing out of my mouth

and onto a balcony into sensual twists that mimic my hair.

I imagine days that end when the sun pierces at a five o clock angle, traveling through souls to cure depression.

and I listen to Angles

as I sit shivering,

and tell myself it's just the air-conditioned gallery

when really the sound of The Strokes, Animal Collective, Radiohead, and Explosions In the Sky

have reached beyond the usual cliche of teenage angst,

and cause my arm hair to stand erect.

I taste Wisconsin, California, Michigan,

and wish that the places my heart belong

could mimic your patterns.

Because as I clung to your hips, and crawled up your shoulders

through the ever-warm night

as we wizzed through the streets

of my territory, Milwaukee,

I remembered.

Things I had tried to forget,

things I had shoved past with newness and a lack of dew.

When really all I wanted

was to climb down a crabapple tree,

instead of up a wet one

with only one kiss

to remind me of all the ways, that simply,

I love you.

Nerdyboyz

I want all of them: nerdboyfriend.com