29 Nov 2014
" Listen, if I've done anything or you don't want to be my friend anymore I get it. Just tell me and I'll leave you alone. It's not really a big deal. "
The open mine 310 degrees north west of here is blowing more pieces of earth apart. My window rattles and the morning sun filters into my room. There is no light bulb in my room so this is the only light that's been in my room since the sun went down. My homework sits tauntingly on my faded white chest of draws and I feel a familiar pang of fear of returning to school. My purple wall has a long scratch in it right next to my bed. It used to only be a dot of paint that peeled away to reveal the peach peaking out from behind it. When we used to lay on my bed and talk I would chip away at it. On the corner of my bed I put brackets over the timber corners and the glow in the dark one I made to match the one I made for him still sits there between the others. On my notice board the bit of green paper still sticks out from behind some photos. It has drawings of his failed hearts because one day I friend to teach him how to draw them. The first time I ever went rabbit hunting, he and I held on to each other in the back if the car while my uncle shot. I wore his jumper and every time we went over a bump he would hold on tighter and say "I've got you." He covered my eyes when my uncle snapped the rabbits neck. I used to tell him how he's crept his way into my life and he couldn't leave, he promised he wouldn't but he did and we are both happier for it. Even though it blew me apart like pieces of rock in a mine. Now the dust has settled, I understand why it had to happen.
YOU ARE READING
The recollection of my misunderstood thoughts.
PoetryLife's a struggle and it's hard. There's nothing you can do. Just get trough it. I hate my life. There's nothing new. But when the sun is out and the sky is void of clouds you can't help but feel a smile is overdue
