In approximately five minutes, absolute strangers will be walking around my home, seeing if they can make it their home.
These are people I do not even know, and they will be stepping all over the sickly green carpet that I've rolled around on.
I just feel so vulnerable and I can't do anything about it because I won't be there.
They're going to be in my room. Do you know what those walls are going to tell them?
"She's a loser. She cried when she took posters off of me. I may have holes in me, but at least I'm not the girl who lived in this room. She's too emotional. She liked that I was pink, and then covered it up. She cries too much and makes no sense. Buy this house so she can get even worse."
Well, I'm far away now, and people should be arriving now. People will have no idea what they are walking into. Tip-toeing after late parties, late night movies, arguments: all in this Potential that they want to raise their families in.
There's already a family living there.
It's mine.

**~~a.s.f.

I want you to take a second, and I want you to reach;
reach into the back, the way way back. back into the dusty bookshelves of your mind, and check out that book, that book that you've heard so much about, but have never really read for yourself.

Then I want you to breathe. To inhale all of the yellow-pigmented roses and the delicious pieces of life and the cups of coffee. To exhale the disgusting, black clouds of smog that pollute the place you occupy; the hate, and the regret, and the gross, and all of the everything that makes you less than what you are: rid it of you.

finally, it would be nice of you to just be; to just occupy that space, to read that book that your friends have been raving about, to breathe in and out deeply, and often, and to just....live.

Live.


**~~a.s.f.

Buzz. Buzz. Do you hear it? Buzz.
It's right before, before the excitement, the pre-jubilation; pre-togetherness.

We were standing over there, the three of us, before everything occurred. Hugs were sprinkled like soft dew at morning.
And then they said it, the thing that made oceans collide, mountains crumble, and volcanoes erupt:
"You know their eyebrows are green in the light, right?"
Everything   stops. Eyes    widen. Mouths   gape   open.
Their eyebrows were IN FACT green in the light. They were like little lines of moss stapled to her forehead; like blades of grass stitched above their eyes. And that ****** expression: strangely malicious.
II. "Max, your sweater is an ocean. Look at it." Eyes are glued, almost magnetically, to their chest. I saw little boats floating around on the soft texture of your sweater, Max. They said something about doing the backstroke in the ocean that you wear.
I imagine hugging you, then drowning in your Sweater Ocean, Max.

We smiled at these tiny wonders that Little Ol' I had discovered. We were pretty happy with ourselves, and the show hadn't even started yet.

**~~a.s.f.

White skies are canvases of the Earth.
Black birds jolt out of the trees, leaving footprints on the wind.
Pink, blue, and purple blotches stretch out onto the sky as night approaches.
The cold wind sings a lullaby as the streetlights flicker on and a cop car wails in the distance.
Everything is still.
Quick. Memorize this moment before it VANISHES.

**~~a.s.f.

What's wrong with the adults of this generation?
The children are supposed to know everything and if they don't, they're bad kids.
Was I supposed to know in advance how to open a locker?
I should have, but I didn't.
Were we, as a class, supposed to know that freshmen have to keep a low profile, or else?
No, but we don't anyways.
Was I supposed to know that you weren't interested in me?
Somehow, I always knew.
But, that didn't stop me.

**~~a.s.f.