How many of these old notebooks
have I thrown away?

How many times have I told myself
that I’m not worth putting down on
paper,

that hell,

I’m hardly worth putting down?

I keep picking them up,

99¢ at any good pharmacy.

$1.25 at an office supply store.

No matter where I get the pulp from,
it’s medicine.

Any time I doubt it,
pitching them
is fever.

Tylenol won’t work,
only ink.

*

- JBClaywell
© P&ZPublications; 2017

I hate the uneducated and the ignorant.
I hate the pompous and the phony.
I hate the jealous, the resentful.
The crabbed and mean and petty.
I hate all ordinary and dull little people
who  aren't ashamed of being dull and little.
I hate the New People
with their cars
and their money
and their T.V.s
and their stupid vulgarities
and their stupid crawling imitations.

I love honesty and freedom and giving.
I love making, I love doing.
I love being to the full.
I love everything that is not sitting
and watching
and copying
and dead at heart.

I wanted to call in sick to work today
and tell them that i just couldn't do it.
and its not the sickness your mom can make you soup for
or the doctor tells you to rest and drink liquids.
It's the kind of sickness that makes you feel like
if you take one step out of bed the ground is going
to crumble beneath your feet.
It's the sickness that caused you not to eat for days
or weeks.
It's the sickness that makes everything in the world
feel like absolutely nothing.
The doctor can't fix you
Your mother cant fix you
No one can fix you.
Only you can do it.

I don't know you
I never will
But a Facebook post told me you got drunk and hit your bike at the freeway
You suffered head injuries and died on the spot.
My Facebook timeline is filled with posts from your friends and family.
They miss you ,they love you and wonder how did you leave so soon.
You were twenty, attending uni and in love with a beautiful girl.
You loved driving your bike on the smooth roads when the rain poured.
You loved drinking till your mind was numb and speech slurred.
I never knew you
But i remember you playing football on our school grounds and talking to the pretty girls.
I remember you posting pictures of you and your girlfriend in the school uniform and everyone commenting on your 'love'
I remember talking to you once about our common last name. I remember you accidentally bumping me in the school hallways.
I remember you standing infront of the principal's office because you played a harmless prank on a teacher.
I remember you standing on stage with trophies and medals you won for our school.
I remember the funny posts you used to share on facebook.
You don't know me. You never will.
I was just another girl in your Facebook friend list. I was just another junior who didn't talk much.

Maybe if I strain my ears,I can hear your mother screaming over the death of her only son. Maybe I can hear your girlfriend crying over her love.
But I hear nothing because in silence,we yearn.

One more week,
I didn’t spend the time I should.
One more day,
I didn’t say what needed said.
One more hour,
So you can tell me those things I already know.
One more minute,
So I can tell you the same.
One more second,
Of that silent, perfect love.
One more,
just
one
more
everything.