DIARY- the goods.

i guess the roles kind of switched up. and just so you know, it’s still you.

after a morning of feeling like crizzaaap, i decided to go to school. i stood outside in the freezing cold and got to school after two bus rides. signed in, payed for my nonuniform day wristband and got sent to the vp’s office. i get sent home for my shorts and tights hmm.. late november, nothing comes out of wanting to go back to school.

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i don’t want to look stupid

but your love is so retarded

and i knew that cupid struck me 

the minute we got started

so now i’m bleeding on the floor and

now i’m slurring like i’m foreign

and my stomach is a’turnin’

the butterflies are movin’

they flutter undercover

as i try and keep myself together

but i lose all my composure

so now i’m melted on the floor

again

because in a place like where i am

in a state of multiple personalities colliding together to make one cesspool of opposing emotions, rollercoastering constantly, bashing and clashing, and seldom attracting each other

in a community of freedom to say and feel and be whatever you want to be

in an environment so closely knit but opinions on opposite poles of the earth

yet every person shares the desire to be heard

and these opposing personalities roar like lions 

the bible teaches us that we are peoples that join together to make our one God

well in that case, then our God is one bipolar son of a gun

in a place that is hard to find where you fit in

in a crowded area filled with personalities that change like seasons

in a place so loud you have to close your eyes just to imagine

a quieter place

people that roar like lions all for the same reason

to be heard

i watch him watching the tv with the captions on because his hearing’s no good

and i call the nurse that doesn’t help at all and i get upset because she doesn’t take care of him like i could

he is confined in this prison that he’s ordered to call home, sharing rooms and bathrooms with people he doesn’t know, or like

i look down at him looking up at me, i can tell that his memory of me is fading if not already gone. and he looks up at this stranger who’s trying to be strong, but he sees my heartache and even if he doesn’t know me, he touches my hand and says,

“water”

and my tears fall to the floor with my heart, but i turn away cause i don’t want him to feel like he made someone cry just asking for water

more tears come as i spoon feed him water

more come at the thought that i have to spoon feed somebody water

more come at the thought of him being unable, and i am fully capable of doing simple things that i can do and that he cannot, like drinking water

i pray to god that he takes care of my grandfather

i look up, then i look down

suddenly, his bed turns to a thrown, the nurses- his servants, his water- a feast, this prison- his kingdom, and he- a king

i look at him

he’s a king