Its so early
But you say its late
Morning will be rough
My eyes will water just to open
My muscles will ache
The clock reads 3am
I'm still wide awake
I don't know whats the use
I try, I try, I try
I just seem to have excuse after excuse
Maybe one day sleep will come to me
the same way it comes to you

She
Enters
Palms kiss door
Feet whisper small steps to the floor
Breath rushes
Shoulders tense
Eyes water
∞
Eyes clench
Posture stiffens
Breath softens
Feet spin
Palms push open door
He
Exits

Childhood is the sun shining bright
so bright that the rays' captures everything around you
Childhood is friends distancing from one another
so apart that hand to hand is now hand to air
Childhood is being the shortest
so short that people hover above you so tall like the NYC towers
Childhood is an elevator going up and down
so high all you can do is smile, and so low that you wonder how your smile ever turned into a frown
Childhood is a sponge
so absorbent that all the tears and laughter mixed into one
But mostly childhood is a story
so alluring with the beginning, exquisite with the middle, and outstanding by the end

I'm the pair of shoes to your feet
I'm an umbrella to the pouring rain
I'm the fan to the sweltering heat
I'm an answer key to your questions
I'm the sunglasses to your nightmares
But most importantly
I'm the hero in your dreams

I miss your smile
I miss the way your eyes twinkled all the time
I miss the way you could persuade me to do anything
You don't miss my smile
You don't miss watching the world around you
You don't miss persuading me to go on adventures
I miss the gasp my lungs made when you held my hand
I miss having to catch up to your lengthy stride
I miss the way you would get lost in your books
You don't miss my hands meeting yours
You don't miss running ahead of me
You don't miss reading
You've left all these things behind
The day you decided you couldn't survive

They throw around the word "anxiety"
They say the upcoming test will give them anxiety
That's only nerves
A synonym

They don't feel
Burning hands
Terror throughout
Drifting eyes
World falling apart

If they felt
The way I do
Would they laugh and stare
The way they do

My words are raw
conversation is bleak
they watch me like a paper doll
always expecting me to break
they don't realize
beady eyes
thick air
gentle hands
suffocate me
I need S P A C E
(when they realize)
It may be just to late