People are so ungrateful for what their voices can do.

People would rather sit idly by and let things happen without question.

But not me.

I have the power.

I refuse to be a test subject.
A sheep.

I am a wolf. Alpha.

I have the power to change.

Step on me, go ahead.  Don't see my blood?
Truth be told it is red.  Don't hesitate.
I've been laying here for effervescent scores of time,
drifting in and out of knowing.
My heart sewn by threads of chance.
So scared of pain and the hurts I've lived.
reluctantly the love I give, is taken greedily.
And selfish truths come into light.
Cry I have like never before,
my mistake to open the door.
Lessons learned I did not head,
now I lay here on the floor to suffer my fate and bleed.
Darkness enveloping hope.
Jumping through hoops with a noose around my throat.
Praying each leap lands me on my pedestal without a false step.
The fatal end I know, waits for the careless step I take.
You the thief, who stole the whole of me.
All of me.
Made me go where I swore I would not.
Made me live my dreams.
Made me step out into fantasy,
My reality,
Come true to me,
Unbelievably,
I, so foolishly!
No one will ever catch me, my heart will never be.
Never see a safe horizon.
Never be surrounded in true and trusted arms of strength.
I can not save you, I can not save anyone,
For I need saving myself.
Can you save me?
Will you try?
Will you support my misguided step,
before the noose pulls tight?
I am bleeding on the floor, and running out of strength.
Will you stop my blood from running, or will you merely drink?

© Crystal Erickson 3/09/08

waiting for the subway
I stand as close to the yellow as possible,

tempting some force of God.

you stand at a distance watching people like me,
nervous,

believing you can hold us back
with the invisible string of your eye.

When we were little
They used to call them
Spotted
Orange
Lizards.

I think they were trying not to scare us with
The words
Standards
Of
Learning.

Standardized testing.

Those things that you need Number Two pencils for.

Those things that they prepare you for
Every year
For months.

Those things that if a cell phone goes off
The entire class comes back
During the summer
And retakes it.

Those things that they give you hours and hours
To take,
Out of our normal schedule,
Even though they only take
Forty-five minutes

Those things that don't even count
Towards our grades
Because
"They're really assessing the teachers--
But it's important to do your best."

SOLs.
Those things that people stress over.

Even though your answers
Are only
Tiny gray dots
On a
Scantron sheet.

I know I'm going to fail
But there's nothing I can do to prevail
The impending hoard of testing books
That will pain me with a simple look

The distance formula staring at me
The short stories taunting me
The velocity begging to be found
As I, ever so helplessly, look around
The room only to see the clock ticking
My time away from me  

My pencil has bite marks on it now
And my eraser is no longer on its brow
The lead is but a broken point
And my hand aches throughout its joint

But as the bell rings, indicating my freedom,  
I can't help but feel defeated
By the hoard of testing books
That pained me with just a simple look