My skin is hot.
I can feel it.

But my bones are cold.

Shivers are sent down my spine
And I know I am shaking.

The only thing I can think of is
You.
Your scent
Your energy
Your touch
Your voice
Lingers around me and dances with my senses.
I am burning for you,
But I feel cold.

It was supposed to be fun.

New school, new supplies,
Thin, neon highlighters glowing inside
Vera Bradley backpacks.

Skinny folders assigned to
Pointless subjects,
Which would be fattened
With pointless homework
By the end of the day.

It was supposed to be fun,
And for a little while, I forgot.

I forgot until History.

The new teacher hadn't lived here
Longer than a week,
Which was why he was
Excited
About teaching.

He had on a brand new tie
From Banana Republic
Which was obviously tied
By his wide eyed fiance.

His classroom was bare, as he explained,
"Don't worry,
I ordered posters yesterday."

The teacher wasn't the problem.

The problem was,
Between Richardson
And Roberts,
He still existed.

At least in the school system he did.

"Ashley Paulette?"
"-Here."
"Abby Richardson?"
"-Here."
"Bennett Rill?"

And my life shattered all over again.

The silence felt
Deafening.

Remembering how he wouldn't be there.
Not ever.

"Bennett Rill?"

The teacher was confused, looking around the room
For someone
Who was buried six feet under.
Someone who the teacher might've thought
Was sick, or vacationing.

It was supposed to be fun.
But then I remembered

I never wrote about it.
I don't like to remember.
And few people know.

But I want people to know the story.
---------------------------------------


I was depressed.
My dad and his sexism towards me,
My moms screams over every little thing.
Everything seemed to be turned against me.

I wanted to end it all.

Death by asphyxiation.

Tying a bandanna tightly around my neck
And going to sleep.

I was sure it would work.
I tied it pretty tightly and all I had to do
Was finish tying the knot.
Three times.
So I couldn't back out.
I almost got to the second loop,
And I heard the beep.

I never read the text.
I just responded with
What I thought was accurate.

And, without my permission,
The knots untied.

And your name was the only thing I saw.

I liked you before then,
But after that, I knew I would grow to love you.
Something told you to text me right then.
Whether it be a selfish reason, or an instinct,
You saved my life.

And now you're a big part of it.
And I hope to the God I don't believe in
That it will, stay that way.

The sharpness of your cheeks.
The soft curve of your lips.
The shadows on your collarbones.
The shape of your hands when you stroke my thigh.
The hard, toned muscles encasing your slender frame.
The long and strong legs that carry you.
The arch of your back as you begin to jump.
The curious look you give when you catch me staring.
The faint blush you (sometimes) show.
The hungry grins you let shine through
Or the laughing smile when you are with friends and family.
And the haunting color in your eyes.

I could go on, but I'm just trying to say,
You are the definition of
Sheer Perfection.
You are the definition of
Absolute Beauty.
And you are
Entirely *Mine.

I can only think of
Things to come.

And soon, my head pounds,
My hands shake, I talk faster
My voice shakes I can't
think i dont know what
todo howtofix it
idontknowanythingand...

I can feel it all.
In the left side of my brain,
A dull ache sounds,
A ringing and a buzzing.

Please end this.
Now.

"A new person.
And she used to be
Me.

But...
Her hair is shorter..."


I've always wanted to be different.
I got sick of being compared to
Other girls that all acted and looked the same.

I CRAVED being different.
I craved being the weird one.
I craved doing something unexpected.

Because the world needs a splash of color.

And with that splash,
A ripple effect will come.


It's been my dream to influence others to be themselves,
To be different.

And this is my chance.
At least...

*For now.

I know its bothering you still.
No reason why it wouldn't.
The elephant in the room.
I worry constantly,
And I wonder how you're doing,
But I don't want to pry.

But if it ever comes to mind,
You can talk to me.
Maybe it'll help.
And maybe I can be a shoulder to cry on
For once.

You can trust me
With anything.

I want to be able
To say something small.
Ten words or less.
That means the world to you.
That pulls on your heartstrings
Like a harp and plays a melody.
That forces you to go through
Every drawer and dusty file cabinet
In your mind to say something back.

But when the day comes that I do say something,
You don't have to say anything.

I am bored, being bored is a pain
But such a pain it is to be active
Writing this poem is a pain
Such a pain...

I wish I had a voice
That could enchant
Every pair of ears
That ever heard me.

I would sing forever.