Poetry

Peeling white paint

Stained wooden floors

Dim yellow light bulbs

Papers strewn across the floor

An unmade bed piled with blankets and pillows

I hear the tick of a clock letting me know every second I am wasting as I scroll through my phone,

the slide of my finger against the screen,

the tap of my thumb as I message someone back,

artificial noise.

Some where there is a child jumping in new puddles,

playing in the soft mud of the Earth,

full of joy.

Some where a child picks springs new dandelions,

blowing on the fluffy seeds to make wishes.

People relax on the beach

Swimming in the salty ocean

Running their toes through the sand

Taking in the scenery

And people dread homework

I could be on the beach

I reach my limit from time to time.

whether it be at school or at home.

I reach the limit of what my brain can handle.

All of the noise of life becomes too much and I need to take a break.

I need to turn my ears off.

The morning bell rang

just like it always had.

Backpacks lined the wall,

bright pink, sky blue,

zippers half open

with pencils and erasers inside.

A teacher wrote quietly

on the chalkboard,

And the air tastes of raw linen 

And I watch a million suns explode 

In the distant horizon 

And footsteps, 

Beating and beating and beating 

Like some twisted wardrum 

I am left here with

The blandishing of obsession 

My obsession

Of time

With the 

Six years it takes

my name is alice, and yes, i screamed when i fell.

The promise of spring.

Rain.

Flower buds.

Light breezes.

Green leaves.

Melting snow.

Saplings.

Hope too.

That most of all.

Am I not good enough for you?

Am I not good enough for anything important?

I'm trying so hard to balance school and math packets that don't work and compositions that don't make sense

and I'm trying to chase my dreams

No shots were fired

No alarms blaring

No sirens

But the gun was loaded

and it was lunch

And there were so many people