Poems because Blurbs

Same Chapter

She stared with a gaze that could set ice aflame.

And they danced like snowflakes through the night sky, like fairies during the summer solstice, like leaves in the autumn air.

Chocolate.
Chocolate would make me feel better, it always does.
I rolled off my bed and pulled out my secret stash. I had everything in this old shoebox. Reese peanut butter cups, kitkats, butterfingers, Lindt, paydays. I pulled out a truffle and unwrapped it, cringing at the high pitched crinkling of the wrapper, and popped it into my mouth.

As the wind whipped around me, my eyes watered. The tears clung to my lashes, freezing there.

We stood in silence, every coherent thought jumping from my head and retreating fast. Any ideas sat just out of reach on a thread. It was as if I were standing on the broken edge of a piece of glass that kept tilting this way and that if I leaned too far. I wondered I would fall before I said something, anything meaningful. I wondered if I could say the one thing I really wanted to... "I love you."

Listening to a dead man's words.

I walk on the far side of the sidewalk, leaving lots of room for others to pass so I don't bump into anyone, or worse, get bumped into. Why is this worse? Because then they feel the need to talk to me, and that means i have to respond, and if they don't say anything, that's just rude. But if I bump into them, I can just keep walking and it won't affect my day, because they aren't me, they won't care of my rudeness. They don't care at all.

The wind stung the bridge of my nose and eyes and pinched my ear lobes. I open the door and warm air wafts out, suddenly seeming like fire instead of the comfortable temperature I'm used to. I step in and all the ares that had been grasped by the cold burned with the sudden change.

The fire lived within my heart and spread to my stomach, churning it. It danced over my skin, igniting it with red hot rage.

Why did I do this? Who was I trying to impress? And most importantly, did it work?

Death is accidental.

Birth is accidental, death is planned.

Putting a piece of plastic in a piece of metal to get pieces of paper.

If you have no friends and you have no family, then who the hell am I?

The winter trees were skeletons of the summer that died in autumn.

I hoped one day I would be able to think if him platonically.

She walked into the room, looking as lost as she felt.

A glimpse into the mind of a mad-man.

I sat. And rocked. And waited.

Not the craziest one in the room but certainly the most flamboyant.

Ideas piling up like boxes on moving day, but no moving truck was coming to take then away.

Memories I would have rather stay down bubbled up and resurfaced in my mind.

A different kind of tiredness tugged at my eyelids and the back of my mind, making it impossible to concentrate.

I watched as he seconds ticked by, counting them off on my fingers.

[girl learns to have emotions and make decisions in only 5 seconds][end book] I held the gun to his head! the cool metal wet from my sweaty palms. Should I shoot him dead? Doubt started to tug at the edges of my mind. This was not allowed. I would count down from five, and if I didn't walk away by then, I would shoot him.
5...4...3...2...
[end]

The bottles of alcohol stood as empty as I felt.

I will never capitalize 'him', 'his', or 'he' unless it is at the beginning of a sentence.

A twenty-three song playlist that I've memorized front and back.

My cornflakes were like eggshells next to my mostly blackened toast.

Her hair fell in waves around her face, crashing in frozen momentum at her shoulders.

It was hard to imagine speaking any other way; it tasted foreign on her tongue.

To her, space was neutral.

Another mediocre day, another mediocre child.

Another day, another child,

The wind threw me this way and that, like a rag doll in the hands of a towering giant.

It sat in silent anticipation, waiting for it's next prey.

I keep my chin high enough to let people know I don't take shit from anybody, but low enough so you know I'm here for everybody.

He was a man with a small zucchini for a nose and buttons for eyes.

And in that moment, I wished I was as beautiful as the sun,

As the smoke rose, it went from the blue of night to the brilliant orange of the early morning sky, set aflame by the brilliance of the sun.

I've always imagined Jack Frost's younger sister drawing ice scribbles on all the windows with a frozen crayon.

At the very end, I started noticing things. How his eyes could turn a brilliant shade of blue in the right light. How young he looked when his hair fell over his eye. How passionate he was when it came toward literature. How the only time he'd write 'LOL' was when he actually thought it was funny. But most of all, I noticed how much *he loved me* *i loved him*.

The words were written across his face in black ink: Help Me.

There is a difference between giving someone forgiveness! and forgetting it ever happened. So should I forgive, or forget?

I bit at the scar tissue in the insides of my cheeks, not caring as blood seeped through my teeth. I ripped at the skin.

Studying stuff I don't care about and learning things I'll never use.

Talking with strangers and kissing friends while enemies watch.

"Are you always this smart?"
"No, sometimes I say a clever thing and the clever thing turns out to be true."
[alternate]
I'm not always smart enough to know the answer, so I just say something clever and hope for the best.

It was hard to think of him as really gone, because it was like he never left; the sun rose and set, I woke up to my alarm blaring and went to *work* *school* as per usual. Nothing changed, nothing, except me.

The longest waits in your lifetime will be the ones you want to be shorter.

Words don't go anywhere, but stay with you everywhere.

Words hurt me everyday. And it's not what they do say, it's what they don't.

If you're looking for someone to teach you, go to school.
If you're looking for someone to cry with you, go to a funeral.
If you're looking for someone to laugh with you, go to comedy night.
If you're looking for someone to remember lasting memories with, go to the archives.
If you're looking for someone to sympathize, go to Hallmark.
If you're looking for someone to be your friend, don't come to me.

Sometimes it's worth the wait, and sometimes you feel like an idiot.

It's easier to look if you do, and harder to look away if you don't.

I've always had that struggle between caring, and being 'normal'.