The other day, I went to the office to sign in for the spare folk. We usually designate one person to sign everybody in at once. On Fridays, it’s me. D’onofrio, check; Do, check; Nota, check…Tran…It wasn’t there, and for the longest few seconds of my life, I felt like I didn’t exist. I checked the page twice, three times and I was no where to be found. I thought I had been forgotten, or re-enrolled in some class that I had just skipped and would then be suspended for skipping which would be on my permanent record and therefore, ruin all chances of me getting into university. Surely, I was unneccessarily spazzing, but I had never felt so insignificant and worthless in my entire life. It turned out that my name was just bumped onto the next page since more students had recieved spare the day before, which happened to be the last day to drop a course. Still, that feeling never really left me. In a few weeks, i have to decide what i want to do with my life, for the rest of my life, and I really don’t think there’ll be much room for u-turns. It’s as if that abstract goal that I’ve been working towards is finally coming, and it’s travelling at 100km/h; as if everything that I’ve learnt and experienced will somehow get me to where i’m supposed to go. University.

I haven’t exactly been preparing for this enough, mentally anyways. I mean, I’ve looked up potential courses, and programs and obviously different universities, but I never really thought this moment, this part of life would ever come. You know, the whole growing up thing. What with tuition being as expensive as it is, it seems like we’re all competing with other twelfth graders to make something of ourselves. You’d think the ‘future of tomorrow’ would be a bigger investment than a war half way across the world that is not only wasting resources, but sacrificing the lives of our brave men and women for an ambiguous cause. I still have no clue what I’ll do after I get my degree, that official looking piece of paper that tells people i’ve just spent 4 years of my life learning things I’ll probably never use in my realized career. I’d love to just say ‘whatever’ right now, but it would seem a little irresponsible to say such a thing in the face of one of the biggest decisions of my life, so, instead, I say “let’s scream until we can’t walk” because I really need to release some tension. Ttfn , tatafornow.

Quarter-Heartedly

Hearts don’t grow on trees, but i never had one to begin with. Fuck love, I want fire, we’ll set the night aflame with all that pent-up desire.

I took the liberty of erasing your messages and deleting every memory of you. If i never have to look into your eyes again and see how much you never wanted me, it can be like you never existed. But really, who were we? We danced around in the rain and didn’t pay any attention to the people staring from inside. We left all our fears behind and now, you never seem to care enough. Why can’t you just go back to that? Why can’t you?

I keep to myself, but for the first time, it felt right to let you in. No regrets. Now, what i kep has been stolen, and I’ll never get that part of me back. You repeat my words, almost in admiration. You laughed as I cried, but those were tears that you never saw. You propelled yourself into the limelight at my expense, a cost you never had to repay, but I’m keeping a tab and baby, you’re six feet deep in debt.

All that’s left of me is a crumpled letter and a broken spirit. At night, I scream. If you listen closely, you’ll hear it.

Didn’t anybody ever tell you you’re not supposed to kill young girls? You took me by the hand and led me to the edge off of which I jumped. You said you would catch me, so I plunged into the darkness and you weren’t there. I haven’t seen the light of day since. You killed me, but I would still take that step off the cliff for you. That’s what hurts the most. That’s what keeps me awake. That’s all I have left, because that part of me you once knew has died. Here I am, clutching onto this sheet of lined paper as if it means something; as if you even remember what you wrote on it. I had you all figured out, but I miscalculated since you never knew me at all. Knew her at all. Yes, she’s gone and they can’t find her body.

You belonged to your friends, your money, and your guitar. Me, I’m just a lingering memory that will never go away.

Lips like morphine, and eyes set to kill.
Your hair is fraying and your hands just won’t keep still.
Skin like snow, flawless and cold.
You keep breaking hearts, but it’s getting old.

That boy had lips like morphine and a gaze that left me gasping. 

She strolls down the hallway, reminding herself to keep her head down. If any eyecontact was made, she would never know, but the embarassment could not be avoided unless she kept her head down. She bumps into someone, but she didn’t bother to look. She swore she heard him say her name, her full name. Thing is, she already knew who it was. She could tell. The wisp of blond and the hint of a lisp. Memories from another time. She wanted to stop walking and look back, at the off chance that she would catch him looking back too. She felt the entry of the ice cold steel into her back. It penetrated her skin and left her bleeding profusely on the hallway floor. She didn’t look back, not once. She couldn’t. With her right hand, she tried to block the wound, and with the other, she wiped away her tears despite the anguish it caused her to move that arm. She could hear the crazy English teacher yell through the corridor, warning students to hurry to class before the anthem. It is already ten minutes after the bell and she realizes she’s already in class, her notebook open in front of her, and three quarters of the note already copied. She feels the tingling of blood rushing to her numb left hand, and the wetness of the paper she was writing on. She was sitting alone and told herself that he never existed. There were still three more classes, a forty minute lunch and the rest of her life to bump into him again.

For

Forgive and forget.

It’s just a memory.

She wanted more than she could have. She wanted you, but you belonged to your friends, your chevy and your guitar. Granted, it only had five notes, green, red, yellow, blue, and orange, but it was your thing. Among the sea of flushed faces, she would search for the small black ring that pierces your skin. With that unwavering gaze that leaves her in a trance and the crooked smile that slowly kills; Rose would be proud.She wanted to take your hand tell you everything, but instead, she clenched her fist at the mention of your name as you watched her walk away. You weren’t ready, but then, she wasn’t either. She let you go with regret, but you’ve long forgotten now. Was what she meant to you that forgettable? That’s okay, because she’s gone. You’ll never see her again because I have killed her. I pushed her into the water only to learn that she couldn’t swim. She struggled, but I have killed her, and her body can’t be found. She never even had one but I can still smell the decaying flesh as she rots in the wastelands of my mind. She can never hurt me again.

and neither can you.

One Day as a Crocodile

The look of fear in their eyes stabbed her like a knife, but she persisted. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

She asked them once more, telling them that she was sincere, but at the back of her mind, she could not deny the hunger she now felt. Momentarily distracting herself from the temptation, she beckoned them again to join her. They backed away in disgust and terror. She cried her crocodile tears, but that’s only because she is a crocodile. They were real. They were raw. Her cries left a yearning in their hearts to comfort her. They broke down, and joined her in the water. The happiness that ran through her was unprecedented. The emptiness she felt minutes before disappeared, and she finally smiled. It was the first time in a while. They played for a while until she soon felt her hunger once again.

It was a pain that steadily grew until it threatened to take over her senses. She tried to control it. This was her last chance, but she yielded. It was only for a second, but it was one second too long. They saw the madness in her eyes. They knew what was coming next. A burst of blood and water covering her, but she couldn’t stop herself. They escaped, but they would never come back. This was the last time they would believe her tears. Silence. She cried alone.

Reasons to Smile

She smiles when she kisses her favourite boy, but what she doesn’t know is that it isn’t real.
She sits alone in her room imagining how magical it would be because the only kisses that did exist were from boys who made her cry.
She wishes she could trade with the universe all of the real ones for that one she dreams about.
He exists, just not in he world. But he exists. She wishes he would read this.
She wishes that he would step beyond the limits of his existence and enter her world for just one night, so they could dance in the streets they set on fire.
These wishes make her smile.

But of all things to smile about, it is yours that makes her happiest.
She hasn’t seen it in a while.
She smiles at that fading memory of that time you called her name from atop the stairs, with a cheeky grin on your face. She looked back up, but she quickly turned her back to you. The two of you kept walking; you sped up and she slowed down as she burned that moment into her memory. Now, it’s a scar that is beginning to heal, but she doesn’t want it to. Trying to etch it permanently into her heart, she smiles in reminisce.

…school, that is. It’s like, I’m suddenly forced to become the person I was two months ago. That is not who I am right now, today, and who I will be on September second. I’ve spent three years with these people in such a way that I can count the people who know three things about me on one hand. I can see it now…she’s smart, she’s asian, and she’s unpopular. Okay…maybe four things about me. Funny thing is, I don’t even get the marks that people expect of me. It’s like being mediocre smart. I’m NOT special, not that i would want to be anyways. Too much unwanted attention. Nobody really knows me. You might think you know me, but do you really? Did you know that I love make-up, and fashion, and throwing m&m’s at strangers? Did you know that I can make tiramisu and throw cards fast enough to leave marks on the walls? Did you know that I love scream and that I dance when no one’s looking? Well, of course not, you’d never be around to see it. And did you know that no matter what you ever thought about me, I never, ever hated you? That it wasn’t my choice, but my only option to bitch at you? That, no matter what I choose, I always end up losing?

No, you could never know any of this. You could never know that I wish the authors of great books could be my best-friend. You could never know that I leave my blinds open so that I can stare at the moon when I can’t sleep. And of course, you could never know that deep down, I know that you don’t like me at all.

This year, it’s not at all about meeting new people or making new friends. It’s about holding on for dear life to the friendships that you do have so you don’t leave high-school with an official-looking piece of paper and a broken spirit. Here’s the thing; the only reason I didn’t bother making new friends is because I never even knew how to maintain my friendships in the first place. I never really believed that anybody I hadn’t known before high school could possibly want to talk to me, let alone be my friend, or even remain my friend for longer than a few months. It seemed too good to be true. The only thing that was real was that i was so wrong. But it’s too late. I can’t change. I still don’t believe in people, and I still keep everyone out of my life. So here’s to anyone who thinks I hate them. I don’t. With every person I’ve ever met, I try really hard to ignore myself when i think “I don’t think they like me…”, but I can’t. It’s the only thing I hear. The only phrase that matters at those moments. When you don’t believe that anybody likes you, it’s a little bit easier to be mean. When you believe that the only people who like you, only use you, it’s a lot easier to seem uncaring. But when you’re alone, and you remember that there is now no one you can talk to except yourself, it is the easiest thing in the world to crawl up in a ball, cover yourself with a blanket, and cry.

Mirror Mirror

It’s true; she doesn’t want to work to feel pretty. Sloth. She wants to be told that she is beautiful and that her eyes shine with the light of the world. Vain. She wants to hear them lie about how much they love her hair. Shallow. But she hates the race of the human variety…and their Ouija boards. Why do they always associate sleepovers with sex? That’s horrible. She sounds like her father, son and the Holy Spirit. When was the last time she’s said that? It must have been school.

The Last Goodbye

I don’t think that I’ll make it out alive, so kiss me goodbye.

I can see the venom in your eyes, so kiss me goodbye.

Even though I won’t go, I want you to say it, ‘Please, stay here with me.’ We had the perfect reunion; two lovers who were never separated. There, a memory you will never forget was born, and that is the taste of my quivering lips as salty tears roll over yours.

How does one fall for someone knowing that in a matter of days, one might never see the other ever again? It was love like at first sight, but it was stupid, immature, and now she cries and screams at night of the person she lost. He’s gone. He’s not coming back. She loved his existence; they crossed paths for a reason and now, she loses…as usual.