It's supposed to feel this way
sitting quiet riding high
the slow burn
the weight of another's hand on my thigh
it's supposed to feel like this
tracing my forearm along the curve of the earth while the party rages on inside
I'm spinning fast
all orange juice and half smile
caught tripping on my own two feet
and you say that we're the same
white hot like the lines of your teeth
you were always so willing to devour me
copy paste impress
the effort of becoming effortless
it doesn't make any difference
because no matter what you say
I know you know what you're doing
so I hide outside
scrape constellations into my mouth
run ragged down your street in my socks with my closest friends
laughing numb about my aggression and burning bright with white noise
It's supposed to feel this way
picking fights with myself in the half light
tearing my teeth out just past midnight
it's supposed to come in waves
youth
forever in four years of closed doors beige walls
and all those fake friends
will burn out hot and fast like dying stars
you'll slip away into forever and I won't miss you even when I think about the blue days
on the edge of the city catching streetlights in my chest
I won't miss you
just miss what I thought you were before I realized that nothing is forever
and we are not infinite
not even a little bit
not even when you play that song or say that thing that you rebloged at 2am that you thought would make you seem deep or intellectual
we are not infinite
but you were apart of my forever even still
so when I climb out of your windowsill it isn't because I'm trying to look like the kids in the videos
I just need to catch my ******* breath
just need to walk with a couple of people who know me
just need to trace my forearm along the curve of the earth
don't worry about it
you'll burn out soon enough
after all
it's supposed to feel this way.

Two things come to mind at that end of the year:
1. Thank goodness!
2. Stress! Stress, stress, stress, stress!

If high school was a story, where would the falling action be in the plot?
That's the thing, though,
There isn't one.
The new year comes
and our stories only rise up
and up to the ****** building and building until suddenly

STOP
Do not go on.
Do not turn the page.
This is the end of the testing session.

The sudden fall.
We learned so much, so fast
But we lose it just as quickly.
****** to resolution, there is no in between.

Another year gone like that.
And thus comes the "new" beginning.
A "new" story,
A "new" chapter,
history just waiting to repeat itself.

The beginning:
Of a year the same as all the rest.
Of time wasted.
Of knowledge gone.
Of saying this time, yes, this time will be different.
Of saying it won't be the same as you've made it for the past eleven years.
Because this year, you're going out with a bang, giving it your best shot.

Until it all doesn't matter.
Until that disease sets in.

So yes,
It's the beginning.
Will you make it new?