Writing

The circus masters release the red beast,

its mane flowing, great fangs bared,

ready to take a bite out of the audience,

who convinced them to let it out of its cage

Drawn to the sky,

A magnet within a sigh.

The gleam I know all too well,

With words to say, stories to tell.

Wrapping around me,

Rooted in denial,

i wonder how many times he’s said i love you.//

i wonder how many flowers he’s gifted//, how many 

slow dances he’s danced, the ratio between//

They always welcome 16 in opened arms, halfway through the school year, maybe you're driving on the road by now

They say it gets better, sweet 16 will be the first of many great changes, many new things

It's too late to be awake.

Devastation crawls in the wake

of everything.

My eyes are burning

physically, actually

in no poetic manner

my eyes are burning with 

Today felt the same as yesterday  
Nothing changed 
But there was a silence 
That echoed in the voices 
I heard 

Today felt as if nothing changed 
I got up brushed my teeth