Poetry

I first began in the business of selling people when I sold a strange man in Jerusalem that I did not like for thirty silver pieces. Swaths of people flocked after him down into the precipice of the market.

Do a spell on me.

Cast it quick to fix me.

I can't see your love

Where is your love?

Why do I not love

you?

Do a spell on me

To love you like you do me

Fill me with dreams of you

 Something's spreading

Our children's thoughts

Those in power abusing

Stories leave me distraught

I walk a fine line.

Life and death.

Funny and weird.

Smart and dumb. 

Waiting for a light breeze to blow me one way.

Will I stay on this line forever?

When will I get off?

Time crunch of number crunching

calculators I didn't know we could use

a packet I'm so screwed for 

a teacher who doesn't teach

I have never been this panicked

meltdown mode

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