Watershed (a poem) :)

Watershed

I made him check my nose first.

I was worried I’d made holes inside it where there should be no holes
and that my nose was going to collapse like that of some heiress
I once saw on the cover of a magazine while I stood in line to pay at Wal-Mart.

(Oh, how I wished I was some heiress.
With enough money to destroy and rebuild a nose until there was no cartilage left.)

The nose thing was really my number one worry,
that and money
and the midterms I was missing
and all the other work I had not done all year,
because I had mono that year.

He said it would be fine,
it was just really inflamed.
He said I had a long road head of me.
I thought, “Yeah, whatever. You don’t know me.”

He knew me better than I knew myself then.
He saw about 3.3 dozen of me’s everyday.
He knew me pretty damn well
and he knew exactly what I was thinking
and he knew I was wrong.