Poetry in motion

5. I look, I try

I Look, I try:

I look for you-

everywhere I go.

I look for your face,

Your hair. Your height.

You.

Each step while searching

seems so small.

Like I'm not going anywhere,

But I know I am.

I know I should be.

As I walk down the halls,

I get funny looks.

I hear the whispers. The sneers.

And slowly, I die inside.

Little bit by little bit.

I continue to search for you.

Even though I know

you aren't any good for me.

You take me places...

I want to be.

Even though

They aren't places

I should go.

I go, because

I'm with you.

The things I do for you.

The things I wish

You'd do for me.

Though I know

They're not things that you want.

This. This is why.

Why you're so bad for me.

I try so hard.

And you don't try at all.

It isn't the same.

When I wanted to give up,

you wouldn't let me.

When I tried,

You laughed.

Now we're 103

And-

I can't.

I can't give you

what you want

from me.

The next day began quite similarly to other mornings at my fathers' house. Me getting yelled at to get my 'tuchus' to school. Pulling myself out of bed, I began to look for clothing to wear. I notice piles and piles of boxes throughout my room.

"Dad!" I yell, feeling the splitting headache that accompanies a hangover. "What are all these boxes about?" I finish. It's a good thing I don't have my aides- otherwise I'd be absolutely dying at the moment.

"Uh, well... we sort of..."

"Oh just spit it out already, I have to get to school you know." I say, slightly exasperated at his loss for words, as he is always so confident. While trying to shove my leg into a pair of tights, I nearly fall over- giving up on those, I toss them back into my closet.