Writing

Young and dumb,

That’s what they say.

Instead my naivety was in the way.

Engine revving like a hum;

My reminder I could go anywhere.

All I had to do was drive without a care.
 

I can't breathe

My heads against the

Stall wall

The coldness keeping me

From passing out

My feet are on the

Gross ground

Trembling

I can barely tell

That the floor is solid

Music lives here.

I can feel the rain unleashing behind my eyes

thunderstorms building beneath the keys

lightning strikes with each hit of the timpani.

Music lives here.

I don’t remember 

Was it real life or a dream?

Looked back; I was gone

Inseparable.

There was this girl; she and I had been friends since diapers. Teachers would ask where the other was when one wasn’t there. We were often mistaken for twins, our family sharing such a close bond. 

Leaves brush my neck.

Winter breathes and stirs my legs.

I taste the pebbles on my tongue,

blades of grass coat my lungs.

The gravel strains my curves.