11:30 The poetry hour

12:00 I begin to cower

12:30 I start to lose my power

1:00 It's been an hour and all I do is stare at the dead wedding flowers

1:30 The noises in my head get louder and louder

2:00 I'm drowning out the voices that reek of gunpowder

2:30 Voices circle me, shouting about how it's all because I allowed her

3:00 The blade in my dresser knew what was about to occur

3:30 So sick of washing blood off of steel, thinking about what we were

4:00 I'm laying in bed again, trying to focus my eyes when all I see is a blur

4:30 The scars on my arms beg me to deter

5:00 The voices are silenced by a cat's steady purr

5:30 Christmas lights dance behind my eyes, lining a snowy Douglas fir

6:00 Delusional with a mind full of ferns and larkspur

7:00 Wake up for school