Inkpaw

me? you want me, to write about me? don't I do enouph of that allready? 
 

(an mildly exagerated truth of my life) 

bubbles float around your head
meaningless 
is what you think 
but what you fail 
to see
is in this twisted 
reality 
there is no meaningless

The summer months are faded now
like photographs left in the sun too long.
It's all a blur
of hazel eyes
and lake water 
dry grass
and nights so hot you can't sleep.
Sometimes I wish I could go back 

today 
was spent falling on my butt
in the snow
my feet strapped onto a hard plastic board
hair in my face
wind in my soul 
and the biggest grin
thats spread across my chapped lips in a while 

The pain, and the using
The endless torture of being slowly dragged across the paper,
feeling my color drain from my body
and the knowledge that when its all gone, they will toss me out,
calling me a peice of trash.

"Hey, don't bother, I would do anything for you." I say, tucking the insufficient blanket under her chin

"Mm" she says, snuggling her head into my shoulder, "what, what if I wanted to fly?"