star

when she sang, she sang a rhapsody

tender words that arced across the room on golden strings

like her un-brushed curls that flew in the wind

from the open window behind her.

Mud mingling with snow mingling with dirt,

the remnants of red nail polish from 

Valentine's Day,

how has it lasted so long? 

The sun a hot fiery ball over the cloud-speckled horizon,

I don't want the cold hallways,

their chill seeping underneath 

my thin regulation gown and settling in my bones.

I don't want the nurses,

with their tight, sympathetic smiles

I cling to the rollicking waves of our tumultuous friendship before they slip from my grasp, white-knuckled fingers and tangled legs praying not to be tossed astray by the unforgiving current.

They sit in the back of the bus,

the shimmer of secrecy ignited in their eyes,

her head in his lap, his hands in her hair,

her lips twisted in that sickening smile. My neck aches 

from looking behind me, and my

We're backstage, giddy with nerves and

tired out of our minds, whisper-laughing as we mess 

with our hair, with each other, try to put on makeup in the dark.