why?why?why?

i walked down the street from the bus today, a football under my arm and my backpack slung over my shoulder. my backpack was heavy, but my heart was heavier.

please don't leave me

this is not the end. you have not reached the goal. it's only one marker on the long road of life. don't stop now; there's still work to do - you've won the semifinals, but the game's just beginning.

just let go

my muse is overworked, i think. she's sitting at her desk, classy black glasses with plastic, rectangular rims falling off her nose, as she sweeps her long, black hair off her face into a touseled bun and leans over the paper in front of her, frantically scribbling away. she bites her tongue, furrowing her brow, matching words with feelings and letters with words. a bead of sweat drips off of her nose and onto the paper, but that's ok, because it adds to the ambiance of the thing she is writing. she is breathing hard, breathing heavy, breathing in the things she writes...
and then suddenly, without warning, her face assumes a look of panic, one of pain. the pencil falls from her hand and bounces once on the desk before settling into silence. and my muse begins to cry. her body heaves and shudders with sobs. she has just realized that what she is writing is devastating. the heart she inhabits is breaking, breaking... and she cannot write it down with words.

am i?

i finally took my prom nail polish off this morning. it used to be all gold and sparkly, but it was getting kinda tarnished and faded, so i doused a dozen cotton balls in nail polish remover, scrubbed my toes until they were clean, and threw everything away.

am i like prom nail polish to you?

just say 'i love you'

my world is all crumbly, soggy, and lumpy.
no, scratch that -
it's crashing and tumbling around me.
my world is all broken; it's shattered and lonely -

i think that's bad.

today i felt

today i felt
something
a trickle
a shiver
a something
a glimmer
a something
inside

apathy

writing is emotion that bubbles up in my chest, seeps out of my skin, and makes words on a page.
i know i feel SOMETHING,
so why can't i write?