Half

I am half-way between violent violets and a meadow colored green.

Two-thirds unaware. Ten-eighths unprepared. And one-hundred percent going to cry. 

As my life slips at the seams, it's revealing all the undiscovered parts of me.

Breakfast is always for dinner. 

Dinner's always cold.

And my dorm room is 100 degrees. 

TV screens, beauty queens, and  all the lines inbetween right and wrong.

They are all getting thinner.

I swear my best friends have lost their minds. 

Sleeping with pulses they find lurking in the night.

And me, I'm reaching for my dream in the most grotesque way.

Choking down smiles during family holidays.

Where G, P, and A become famously trite.

And "where's your boyfriend?" a silly refrain.

I'm one-half terrified, 2 percent drunk, mistakingly independant, and in desperate need of my mom.

But honestly, I wouldn't trade any of these halfs for this whole world.

Because each tiny peice is forming one hundred percent of me.

I am a college student drowning in possibility.