Oh, how your words hit like a leaf.  Gentle and fresh, but sharp and calm. Touched by the hands of God, you see everything. Peaceful, watchful, mindful.  Mind FULL of pain and sorrow. Worries draining hopeful emotions and a fear of tomorrow. Tomorrow

Tomorrow

Tomorrow.

morrow… Fuck your sorrow man’!

Ding! The bell rings. You are still young. You are the one. Destined to carry this weight. Unholy and Unforgiven.  END! Everything is an in to the out.  Everything has an end and yours will be NO end. Again again again again. The hands of time are the hands around your neck. Holding you down you will never learn to float. You’ll sink, you stink. Destined to hide, wanting to cry you shy away and later you will pay.  Be all end all. The enemy is you. Can’t do nothing right! Be all end all.  The halls make you want to cry. Head down, slinking like you’ll drown----COW--- COWARD Fear of a clown. Alone forever forever forever forever. Fear of the unknown, fear of you. Constant shakes, shaking the desk. Failing the test, hiding behind the text—book.

No one to exchange food with, but you still eat quick and it shows. You’ll never be her, but you’ll always be HERT. Miss Understood. Miss Overweight. Miss Underweight. Miss Under Average MISS MISS MISS MISS…. MISSED Chance. Failure. The best is yet to come but you shun this notion. “Going through the motions”. Everything hurts, and EVERYONE hates you. Your fears shake you down. You’re a clown. Life is a joke, growing up is a hoax, no hope. I find her in 10th grade. She is beautifully spoken and intimidates me. We get along great. I see her every day and so it must be fate. I’m good at this. Maybe I can play. Player. Play her like a guitar hiding all my tears, spilling my fears. My friend, my hobby. No longer alone, my truth WILL be shown. Second chance, happy dance. Finally, clean. I understand how the world works and how feelings are made. I’m good at this. Does she bliss? She has taught me how to feel and be free. She has shown me that being lonely is ok. I’m ok. Yea I’m ok. I guess I’ll play. I’ll play her strings and let melodic screams for passion be seen.  My cry for help is now a battle cry. She is the be all end all, I’ll play.