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Such A Mess.
March 4, 2015
I sit in the back.
Keeping my jacket still.
My hair is a mess.
And black covered rings around my eyes.
I hear them.
I see them.
The glimer of something sharp.
The shaking of bones.
The beating in my chest.
I want it all to stop.
Why hold on to something so fake?
Then I remember.
As i lose myself in the black,
You give me a hand.
With that bright smile.
It's cause such a mess.
© Elizabeth G., Marblehead, MA
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