Writing

Why?
Why would you want to stay here with a stranger?

I already knew the answer.

The same reason I hadn't jumped off the edge to fight his killer,

or screamed in that perfect classroom.

His voice was too light, when he said that.

His movements too easy,

his eyes held no shadows of a boy who had to agree to death,

just the annoyance of a teenager finding someone crying in his classroom.

No.

I can't do that.

I can't kill him.

I can't watch him die,

not again.

And this is him,

the real number 3.

it was barely audible 

yet soft and sure 

in the heat of the moment. 

what? 

I ask 

even though I know what you said. 

I know the weight 

Every day

I'm so used to getting ignored

I try to talk, but you talk over me

I'm at the point where I just stop talking...

The only thing you talk about is yourself

Today, I watched boys climbing a log stuck vertically in the sand

And girls kicking at leaves just for the fun of it,

And oh, when did our youth slip through the backdoor unnoticed,