maelynslavik

To be chosen. 
 

That's all I wish for — to be someone's first choice. 

I watch from afar, lost in a sea of the bittersweet feeling 

As others are always chosen first, but never me, 

i roll off from the table

landing in a box filled with hay

finally, i think

i’ve found my rightful place

then i look around

the strings of hay

entangling themselves 

i bend myself to fit them

a dream, swirling in my tired mind, a sequence of letters makes a word.

my brain aches, an onslaught of countless words and numbers.

Get up, grasp the dream, make it out.

Get up, identify it!

Get up!

Get up!

There should be a word

For ages thirteen through seventeen.

There should be a word

Like childhood or adulthood

That describes

Being a teenager.

Adolescence is one, yes

But it doesn't fit.

I don’t know.

I’m sorry.

I don’t know if I can do this.

I’m sorry. 

I don’t know if I can do this for much longer.

I’m sorry.

I don’t know if I can do this for much longer and I’ve been getting tired.

i wore brightly patterned pajama pants today

because it was blue-and-gray-go-wolves spirit week at school and

they fit the whole cartoonish hearts theme. you

wore black sweatpants and your favorite blink-182 shirt,