WithoutBreathing

She ran desperately After the bus That finally arrived Drenched in The tears of angels And she arrived at That loud place Where everyone is The same And She isn’t. The bell rings, and Like Cinderella She transforms But minus the Gown And the shoes and The pumpkins They’re still there And she shrinks back, Escaping to class Where no one knows And no one cares And no one is real Enough.

On her way to school She trips over a snail That was just finding a new home And she stares And Continues on slowly On her way to catch The yellow, sunny bus And, it was raining And The bus would never arrive And So she stood in the mists And dropped her Pre-calculus book And it fell, fell, fell And Squished the snail And she opened Her mouth to say Something profound But she couldn’t find The phrase So she picked up her book And buried it With the snail And his home that was Cracked and dirty And she thought ‘I wish I could be him.’

She eats cereal alone watching sunrises that would never arrive. Bob-bob-bob, she watches the defeated yellow sailors floating belly up in seas of milk and the God-- who is but a spoon and she sighs, drinking in the whole reality of the defeated yellow sailors and she thinks "This is what being alone means, yes." And then she picks up her backpack, and leaves to catch the bus.

It's a crying shame, that the surface of the pond is perfectly smooth. They no longer dance, those haloed angels of the deep, calm and still. All that's left at this miserable and dead sea are imitators. I watch the Others. Frozen and cold. Perfect, with more grace than water What does it feel like? to dance upon hard liquid. They know the feeling. That wind through your hair... I still watch enviously, Wishing I could be... Invincible.

You lived in a world of fantasy, You think everyone's a spy. All of your words drive me crazy, if only I understand why. You sob, you sneeze, I don't know what to do. I tell you to stop crying please, You blame it on the flu. I felt like I would truly die, and you pulled the blanket closer It was obvious that it was a lie. You put on your favourite composer. I hate Bach and Stravinsky, you frowned petulantly. I sat there bored till half past three, as you hummed buoyantly. Finally you stopped humming, turning off the music, "That shirt is quite becoming," I wondered if you're dyslexic You tell me you're not ADD I really d

It's January. Our fingertips touched. February arrives, thanks for the candy. March dances into our lives, waltzing in with spring rain, it's jewels, and my tears too. You were there. April. I was still alive. Barely. But I was living. May, almost summer, almost summer. June, slowly, my heart mended. The hurt receded. I could see again. But... Too slowly... July. Salty liquid no longer means tears of rejection, tears of sadness. It means the ocean and the sea. Ever change, ever reminding. What comes will fade, what fades away will rush back in. August, a brand new start, a whole new wardrobe. But with your new outfit

Drugs are good. I think... I also thought it was a good decision, to leave the baby in the car. For five hours. Oops.

Cookies are yummy! OMNOMNOM! They make my tummy happy OMNOMNOM! With their Chocolate delights, OMNOMNOM! and Sprinkles colored bright! OMNOMNOM! Don't you love cookies? And just so you know... I dropped that cookie on the floor. ... ... ... ... OMNOMNOM! (ewh.)

Give me a life-- my old one-- not the new ones from Wal-Mart. (50% on roll-back, in aisle 2) Teach me how to breath, without foam dices and candy bribes. (I hate grape flavor, by the way) You don't know me. How can you teach me, to be more like myself? (I am here; it's a scream, not a whisper) I have a suggestion, stick with teaching little children. (If you can put up with the whining) They won't ask you questions, such as, 'Why did you kill her?' (Because you buried me.) Alive.

I hate YOU. You RUINED my life. But I ruined yours too, We were never meant for each other. You were just a silly toy, an accessory. I was just your barbie doll, something to dress up and brag to your friends about. And you were my Ken, perfect and flawless. But you were hollow on the inside. Nothing, fake, plastic. Bogus and totally lifeless. You never cared for me.. ever. Casting me aside, Even though you were the one who was Trash. I couldn't believe I ever loved trash like you. Loser I should have stayed straight.