Three Poems

Marisa Marinelli

2013 Blue Mile Road Race
Photo Credit: Sangudo

Google Maps

directions to his house:
1. make a right onto the road
where you first met,
when you never expected him
to have such an impact on you.
2. take a sharp left to the spot
where you realized
he gave you butterflies,
even though you barely knew him.
3. turn right onto the highway
where your friend told you
that he liked you and
4. turn left onto the road
where he finally admitted it.
5. turn right onto the street
with the park that you went to
on your first date.
6. take a left onto the road
with the streetlight that he pushed you against
and kissed you for the first time.
7. make a left onto the street
with the dead end that you always sat at
and told each other secrets.
8. you know which way the road
where you had your first fight is,
because you’re always right anyway,
so i shouldn’t have to tell you to
9. turn left onto the street
where you realized
he actually made sense
and maybe you needed to
stop being so stubborn all the time.
10. make a right onto the street
with the pretty house
with the pretty garden
that he stole flowers from
so he could give them to you,
because he didn’t have the money to buy you any.
11. turn left onto the road
where he said he couldn’t do this anymore
because you deserved better.
12. turn left on the street
where you said he was the best for you,
no matter what anyone—including him—thought.
13. turn left onto the street
where he decided
you should stop seeing each other.
14. turn left onto the street
where you begged for him back
because he was all you thought you had.
15. realize you just went in a circle and
16. realize you never even made it to his house
that he was embarrassed of anyway, because of its size
and even though you never cared about that,
17. realize he cared too much, and
18. realize that these directions will get you nowhere and
19. you ended up right where you started.



when you sit behind him in algebra
do not think about the way his back muscles are so prominent
do not think about how good his cologne smells
do not think about the way he taps his fingers against the desk
pay attention, this is your worst class

when he’s behind you in the hallway
do not turn around and ask him what happened between you two
do not shake your hips, hoping he’ll take a glance
do not duck your head down and hope he doesn’t notice you
keep walking, he’s just another person

when he texts you asking for the homework assignment
do not continue a conversation with him, even though you miss him
do not give him the answers, even though you want to
do not even reply to him
he’s smarter than you, he doesn’t need your help, delete the text

when he flirts with another girl right in front of you
do not get angry at her or him or yourself
do not cry in front of them, they’ll only laugh
do not make a scene
turn around, you were both supposed to move on


Compilations of Us

i need to stop pretending the memories aren’t there
it’s like smiling when you want to cry
or labeling a binder “history” but filling it with chemistry notes
or a book titled “love” when all there is is hate
the scrapbook of my mind can not be burned or ripped or destroyed
each snapshot is stuck inside forever
i tried drawing myself a bath made of rainbows
but not even the boldest blues could coat over the glossy photographs
i need to shove this scrapbook into a cluttered drawer with my other unwanted thoughts
but i don’t want to re-open that drawer
so this reminder of our mistakes will remain on my bedroom floor
until i can find the strength to put it away


Marisa Marinelli is currently a sophomore in high school. She hopes to attend college at the University of Buffalo and major in Psychology. marisamarinelli2[at]

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