Estelle

One word, one stone,
Flat and smooth.
One lake, one life.
One stone
Is flung at the water.
The ripples spread out like a fan.
Each ripple changes the water,
Churning up the sand.
It hits once, twice, again and again.

I look just like you,

Pale skin, light hair.

Do you know my blood is a little bit different?

You might not notice,

The little things, that show I am different.

You might notice an accent in a couple words,

Friends are there for you if you ask,
Best friends are there before you even think about it.

With friends you have to talk,
With best friends you can just sit side by side, knowing that they are there.

Creaky stairs, voices in the dark.

So many monsters I don’t know where to start. 

Ghosts in your head, wishing you were dead. 

All monsters are our own creation.

Our worries and fears are given sheets.

At one, I was a happy little lump of flesh and bones

At two, I found out my parents love would have to be shared

At three, I was a mischievous little devil with scissors  

At four, I became curious  

My hair is the color of dead wheat.

My eyes are grey like two craters on the moon.

My teeth are sorta pointy.

My stomach is white.

My legs are tan.

Nothing’s right,

But nothing’s wrong.