HAPPY

Smiling, dancing, laughing, prancing

Singing and doing whatever I please

Always, of course, joyfully!

I brighten the room

My face like the sun,

I make people happy,

Activities fun.

I feel beautiful and smart,

That nothing can stop me,

That I'm on top of the world.

Then suddenly...

It's done.

SAD

I cry, for no reason at all,

I sit with an empty heart

And an empty stomach,

No desire to fill either.

I tell myself I'm not real

I stay away, far away,

Even when I'm right there,

My mind is wandering.

Thinking about...nothing,

Only that there's nothing

Left, that I am nothing.

"Beauty" is a term of the past

As I stare at my blobby,

Disparaged form.

What

Am I

Still

Doing

Here...

But then suddenly,

I laugh and am okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm tricking myself.

Happy, sad, happy, sad. 

The question is:

Which is the trick

And which the truth?

One hundred and seventy-six days.

The number of days we had in the school year.

Two hundred and sixty-four hours.

The number of hours we shared a class.

One single minute.

The number of moments it would have taken

To say something, anything,

To tell you how you make me feel

And what I want us to be,

What I know we can be.

What I knew we could be.

What I thought we should be.

What we will never be.

But maybe, if I had seized that minute,

That single, eternal minute,

I would be telling the story

Of what we would be

Of what we are, what we finally are.

But today, 

Day one hundred and seventy-six,

I saw you and screamed the truth,

Except I didn't, not really.

And I watched you walk out the door

And realized what a gutless coward

I had been.

All it took was one minute,

A single minute,

Missed.

Waking up shivering and fearing for my life on a nightly basis, that's what Nightmares are to me. The reoccurring ones are the worst. Each time, an unfamiliar face comes to my home with a transfixing look on his face. I run towards the door to close it, but he's faster. Sometimes he hurts me, sometimes he rapes me, sometimes he simply stares at me. Each time is worse than the last. And each time I wake up, I'm relieved to know it was just a bad, bad dream. 

But then,

It happens -

Again. 

Why?! You ask me why?!

Such a silly question,

For you already know!

It's obvious-

I did it for show!

The attention, the glory,

The fantastical fame;

The life I had before...

I'm terribly ashamed!

Now that I have done it

I'm finally free

To be the stellar,

Incredible,

Glamorous,

Beyond perfect person

I was destined to be.

They don't know what you've done

But you know.

Pretend, pretend you didn't,

But you did.

You regret, you deny, you try

Not to remember,

But it's eating you up inside.

You ask yourself, why?

But it's too late.

Nothing matters -

You can't take back

The mistakes you make.

The sun beats down on the golden sand of the peaceful beach. The waves licking up slightly with the breeze. The clouds are scattered across the sky. Torre Delle Stelle, Sardegna, Italia. The place where my mamma grew up, the place I dream to live in. It's more beautiful than it's ever been. All I want to do is lie there, floating atop the warm water, basking in the blazing sun. Just lie there, dreaming of living in this wonderful hidden gem on Earth for as long as I live.