Everything Is Wrong, Jersey Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

In science class,
I would pretend to read books
And delve in between lines
So she wouldn’t ask,
What is wrong?
Everything is wrong Jersey.
From your hair,
Your lips slightly parted,
Everything was such
A beautiful mess.

On the streets,
I would walk facing the concrete
And not stare at her feet
Nor gaze at the clouds
So she wouldn’t ask,
What is wrong?
Everything is wrong, Jersey.
The Sun gliding over your hair
In resilience, in despair
The grass fumbling,
Kneeling and folding
With the thought that
You’re their queen,
When in fact,
You are my queen
And nobody else shall
Have you as theirs
Everything was such
Perfectly wrong.

In literature class,
I would articulate
Like Shakespeare or Hemingway
Feeling each line
Sink into my bones
So she wouldn’t ask,
What is wrong?
Everything is wrong Jersey.
Because I told you I love you
And you never moved
From one seat closer to me,
You remained there
As idle as a rock
It was such
Painful and bittersweet
Like wine exposed
To white light.

In the night,
Your memory would wake me up
And I would sigh,
Trembling
Writhing on my bed
You dance inside my head
I would pick up my phone,
Think about
Calling you,
Memorizing the fluctuations
Of your voice,
And I would cry silently,
And not boisterously
So you would not ask,
What is wrong?
Everything is wrong, Jersey.
You don’t pay attention
To my voice,
You have forgotten that when I cry,
I say, “Nothing. Nothing.”
I said, Nothing, Nothing.
Ten times,
And you just said,
“Ok, go to sleep then.”
That is why,
Everything is wrong, Jersey.