I wish the clouds would stay away, and drama would be confined within the perimeter of a television screen. But these petty conversations around me make my skin crawl. Shut up, you aren't the center of Saturn's rings. She cheated on him, she cheated on them all. Theif, that's all you are, but you'll never steal him from me. I won't be subject to the ridicule of my cousins (even though they insist I be more unlike myself). College boys should stay there and never come back (because I know that would make things easier). By this time next year, she'll be gone, and I will be left pinned to a foreclosure notice. Halfway there, I'm halfway there, but it can't come soon enough. P.S. I don't know what to do. I am madly in love with the romance of others (don't tempt me with such lovely gothic literature). Center of the spotlight, in a starring role--but only when I'm not myself (it's obviously where I want to be). You can't get to me; I don't care if I sit alone. Spaces are better when left empty so when a solid truth crosses your path, she can fill the voids left by their lies. Happinessit's nothing I can explain (not that I haven't tried). I have yet to meet a person who can out-stubborn me (I dare you: try).
Hi, who are you? My new best friend is high, oh, the ecstasy. Shh, some secrets are best kept to ourselves. Ah, the newness of a fresh start (and how I've needed it). Why are you here, love? Didn't you hear; I don't believe in vampires. I have a sadistic simpleton on my heels. This is crazy (this is high school). Some (like me) are sugar, spice, and so innocently nice, but she is more like sex, drugs, and booze. Self-conscience, even though I say I'm not. I am so relieved when you say that I'm beautiful. Resentment and anger is still ringing in my ears (I hate you but not really). Peace, young one, you have a lot to learn but not before I shake things up. I know your sneaking behind by back. Try me, Cry to me, but you'd better not Lie to me.
For some reason there's always a river flowing from my eyes and an earthquake in the epicenter of my heart. I can do it (No you can't). Don't look at me like that, I'm not the one who starved you. Such sweet music makes me cry, and I smile as I grasp a pair of tweezers. sometimes i am too tired with myself to even punctuate my rambling thoughts and i know that i am running on and on without a point. Can't I just fake sick for just one more day (God, I'm such a filthy liar)? Their lies are becoming truths (Ugly, fat, stupid. Ugly, fat, stupid.). It's all a blur, one long streak of paint that says I hate myself. I still chase the ice cream truck down the road with my dogs barking behind me. Almost there, so very close, just a few weeks left. Summer's almost here. Emo (why) is (do) not (they) a (label) compliment (me). Crimson is not a flattering color. I want to leave this place.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder; that's a lie (I prefer out of sight, out of mind). Am I the only one under this itchy blanket of invisibility and shame? I remember vague details of my lunch conversation today; the smell of Chick-fil-a sticks to my jeans. Did I forget my homework last night? He loves me, he loves me not (oh the hardships of a preteen). My stupid science teacher thinks it appropriate to teach college level biochemistry to seventh graders. Mommy, why do you hate me? It's not a crime to get good grades (nerdy and proud). You're face looks like bird droppings, and it resembles your attitude: shitty. I like to sit in the dark and pretend to escape to a place where someone loves me. If I am so useless, then why do I exist? I like to get lost in my head (and become someone else). I don't know who I am.
Who are you to say I can't publish a novel (You know nothing about me)? I'm still innocent and silly and throw goldfish across the room at snack time. Peanut allergies (there goes my daily lunch). Who's that new kid who sits behind me? It's embarrassing, to think, I thought he was a girl at first. Get over yourself, princess, I'd hate to see you break your own heart. Hey, you, stop ignoring me (I'm right here in front of you). Do this, do that, I'd rather be writing. I wish you wouldn't tell me to be more like my sister. Mrs. English Teacher, you are my new hero (I wanna be just like you). But I'm afraid, I'm nervous to leave this behind. I never want to grow up coz this is all a little too unreal.
We call our teacher Smokey Bear because she's always smoking outside during study halls. I didn't talk during our fire drill, and I was the only one who didn't get in trouble. Smile for the camera (you'll regret wearing men's clothes only in later years). It's easier to be friends with boys than with girls. Girls are a really annoying species. Chicken of the Sea (I eat tuna every single day). Have you ever considered that maybe I want to play four square too? I hate it when you tell me I can't. Playing Indians by your pond is fun, even in the chilled air of fall. Just because I have asthma doesn't make me different from you. I'm not weak, I promise.
"Quiet, class, or else I stick your finger in the pencil sharpener." On the first day of fourth grade, she wore a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. Why, yes, I do get up at 5:30 in the morning to practice my violin. My dog is dead and gone forever. I hate what cancer did to her. Mom, I want to get contacts because these stupid glasses make me look like a freak. Everyone forgot my birthday again (oh, well. It's nothing new, really). My classmates giggle because 'gay' is one of our vocabulary words, and I wonder what's so bad about it (the worst thing I think it could mean is to throw up). We had colonial day at school, and everyone touched the horsehair on my violin bow even though I told them not to. Why don't you listen to me?
First vocabulary word of the year: Ferrucci, my teacher's name. Why did you leave to become a massage therapist (I miss you)? Playing chess is more fun when you throw the bishops at the boys' heads. No, don't do that; it's not polite to put the whole bagel in your mouth at once. Do I have to make Valentine's for the whole class (I don't like most of them)? Did you know you're my best friend? We'll go to Sweet Briar College and then to Virginia Tech to get our vet's degree and then we'll live together on a horse ranch in Arizona with ducks, chickens, rabbits, dogs, cats, pigs, and goats. Life is good and simple. I wish I could freeze time.
I have an insatiable taste for the melodramatic. New school, new friends, new material to discover. Let's play a game, Boys versus Girls (I'm gonna be different and be on the Boys' side). I don't appreciate your lies; I know when I'm being used. You call me 'the weird new girl who dresses like a boy', but I call it 'different is better'. First school play, I was a firefly (I was the best firefly). It's difficult to focus on the overheads projected onto the board; I'm not stupid, I know what a verb is. All these thoughts but yet, not a word. (you could say I'm shy).
Teachers teach because they love children but not Mrs. Wells (she likes to yell at me). Why am I in trouble? I only wanted to borrow his crayon. Rigidly placed within the lines, a perfectionist from an early age. I hate it here, I really do. It's not nice to punch people (that boy had a mean right hook), but I got my revenge in time. My first love, my best friend, my guardian angel (in the form of a two year old mutt) finally found little me.
I'm convinced art teachers live to suck the soul out of me. She's stifling my creativity. Kindergarten class representative (I feel important). I am very nervous, I am afraid I'll fail my Standardized Test, and then I'll be a disappointment to my family. School can be a scary place. How can I be perfect?
I'm sitting in a dark kitchen as my mother says to me, "Lee, Johnny in your preschool class has started taking violin lessons. Do you want to take them too?". Up like a rocket, down like the rain, back and forth like a choo choo train. It snows a lot, and the azalea bushes are frozen so I can sit on top of them. I pulled out my two front teeth all by myself. My smile is small and crooked.
A small four year old tries to mediate arguments over toys in her preschool class. The teacher comments how she is afraid to play musical chairs because she doesn't want to risk losing. I hide behind the sofa when Little Jack Horner would pull the plum out of the pie on Sesame Street. I am afraid to sleep because I fear spiders will crawl into my mouth as I sleep.
I scream because I hate to take baths. I cry because I can't sleep without Daddy tucking me in. I laugh because I am very happy.
Hi, who are you? You must be my new sister.
Welcome to Life, young one.