Writing

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 

I am left here with

The blandishing of obsession 

My obsession

Of time

With the 

Six years it takes