our bed we live, our bed we sleep. making love and I become you.

Nov 22, 2007 18:50



It is difficult for me to think of things I am thankful for, because I am convinced I could fill up an entire volume. At the same time I would be staring blankly in my own eyes searching for suggestions. When I look outside, I am searching. The sky was white as snow, gray as smoke. There is smoke swirling to the sky like we are all seeking for spirits. Snow is stuck like crystal leeches on automobiles in the city. The ground is covered with a neon orange of leaves falling from trees I've been convinced were dying. Funny how things come alive.
Music has been flooding my ears, wreaking havoc on the parts of me that wish to hum in silence. I am serenaded by everything and it is so perfect. I've given up on others, and I've taken in some like they are candy and I have lost it.

I'm glad I am spinning around in the fresh air again. For a second I thought I'd gone crazy.

I was published in the November '07 issue of Teen Ink.
You can read the published review HERE.
Previous post Next post
Up