into a bottomless sky
air trying to stop
in a silent scream
closer and closer and closer
Leave it All Behind
"Will you still be here in the morning?"
I raise my eyebrows at the elderly man sitting across from me, "Is there a reason I should be?"
"Well...You know your parents should be back--"
"I know when they'll be back, I'm the one that paid for their entire vacation. I didn't come to see them. I'll be gone before their flight even lands."
I came to see my childhood home, to see if it was what I remembered, or if it was better or warmer even. But no. It was the same house, only now filled with more exquisite decorations--decorations bought with the money I'd given them over the years without even a 'thank you' note in return.
"Linzi, you haven't seen them since you moved out... They're your parents," Kenny's wrinkled hands shake slightly from an emotion that is hidden from his soft, thoughtful face. He's what people would call a family friend, to me he's the grandpa I wish I had. And he's currently house sitting for my constantly emotionally unavailable parents.
The feeling that has always haunts my stomach thunders to life, an unexplainable anxiety. The need to leave. I've been here too long. The air is heavier and the lights are brighter. Too bright. My foot starts tapping a terrified beat.
"Try telling them that, Kenny." Even my voice is shaky. I quickly rise to my feet, and dust off the crumbs of dinner. "I need to go."
"Wait!" Kenny's old joints audibly moan as he starts to follow me up. But I'm already rushing from the dining room to the front door.
"Linzi!" He calls after me, but my expensive fur coat's draped over my shoulder, and my right hand grips my keys and phone.
When the door opens, and the cool night air sinks into my bones, a bit of the anxiety fades. I'm almost gone, almost free.
"Your bags!" Kenny calls, still in the dining room. He's stopped trying to chase after me, because this is what happens every time I stay too long.
"I'll just buy more."
I shut the door with finality; the road awaits.
I wonder where I'll go next, if anywhere will be enough to hold me for more than a couple of days. If I can ever find a place that gives me inner peace, where my soul can be put to rest.
But for now, I'll just be the journeying rich girl the media ponders and my parents ignore.
Drifting, floating, close to drowning
Drifting, sinking, almost flying
I Just Want to Tell
I'm a smile ready to burst,
A flower ready to bud.
But nobody even asks,
Why I'm jumping on my toes,
Trying not to squeal,
Tapping the excitement out of my fingers,
Or twisting my hair into incurable knots.
I want to shout my happiness to the world,
But nobody asks,
They're too busy,
Posting pictures of themselves on the internet,
Breezing through life without a care.
The Good Child
Getting up before the dawn. Being the alarm on everyone's door. I don't want any pity, this is just what I do. Make lunches for little sisters and parents. Start cooking the eggs for breakfast, gulp down a bowl of cereal as the eggs are flipped. Send my groggy sisters back to the room to fix their backwards clothes. Run through the house, pick up random things off the floor hairbrushes, paper plates, toys, schoolwork, papers, and clothes. The sun starts to rise, get my sisters' shoes on, their bags together, their hair brushed, ignore their glares, because they had to find matching socks, make sure my parents' work bags are in the right place, for when they hurry out the door, get their coffee made, remind them of the grocery list, look down at myself, and realize my PJs aren't going to make the right fashion statement at school. Ten minutes before the bus arrives, I yank on jeans and a cute shirt, run my fingers through my hair, look for my socks, throw my books in my bag, remember to give out my sisters' lunches. Rush out the door, catch my breath, run through my homework assignments in my head, hoping I didn't leave any on my bed. Ready to do this all again, for the whole school year, staying up late, getting up early, only 'thank you's I get are quick, and sometimes forgotten, but I don't mind, really, because I'm the good child, ready to face another day.
Trying to be Myself
Me, the center of attention? I've got nothing to qualify, just trying to be myself.
Hint of a Smile
It goes a long way, that hint of a smile.
It makes my stomach flutter and drop.
It turns my eyes to sticky glue.
My legs turn to jello,
My mouth starts to ramble,
My hands float about aimlessly.
Just that hint of a smile drives me mad.
Can't I come?
Why am I always the one looking for a place to go?
Walking through a forest with mist playing with my vision. Hiding rocks and tangles of undergrowth until I'm already falling.
The wind calls my name. Pulling me forward, rushing through me, making me feel the urgency to move. To fly. To be free.
Random animals watching me. Hiding up in the trees, skulking in the midst of the mist.
There are no stars out tonight. No man in the moon to point the way out and onward. The clouds are dropping lower and lower. Coming to crush me. Coming to surround me.
Lost in a forest. Kept company by the whispering mist and the surrounding fog.
I Never Wanted This
I never wanted to stain your face red.
I never wanted to turn your heart to ice.
I never wanted to release my tears.
I never wanted to set my heart on fire.