She stares past as her life flies by,
some memories sweet
while others dissatisfy.

She remembers she was 8
and her dad pushing the swing
with muscular ease
as her hair swayed
with the honey-suckle breeze.

She remembers her 15th summer
racing on through
bringing with it raging hormones
and ***** boys.

She remembers bitter tears
shed on mother's caring shoulder
when Robert said that they were over.

She remembers prom and
mistakes she made
and the boy who never again
glanced her way.

She remembers the agony
9 terrible months later brought
for a tiny, screaming baby
and she remembers the love that grew
in spite of the pain.

She sits on that bench and
quietly remembers her child’s firsts:
teeth, words, steps that grew into strides.
and her only regret: only the man
with his godawful pride.

She climbs on the bus
gently grasping the hand
of her bright eyed
and well-loved child.
And this child,
this child,
who is wealthier than most
for the child knows only of
love.

1 month, 3 weeks
since I have last known your hands as my own
since I last had you body for warmth to hold
since I said "I love you more than you know"
1 month, 3 weeks.
We are strangers with memories
farther apart than we were from the start.
My first kiss, my first love, my first true look into a soul.
1 month, 3 weeks.
how could three years, a lifetime, just end?
how could we be so close, and so far?
how could we be so open, so blind?
1 month, 3 weeks
and I'm finally falling apart
and I can finally cry
and I can finally see
1 month, 3 weeks
Is this what it is to be happy?
Is this what it means to be free?
Is this life?
1 month, 3 weeks
and I'm finally happy.

My eyes meet yours
Do you notice me
in the way I notice you?
Or do you have a different
method of noticing the who?
Do you even look,
when you are seeing?
Can you know,
without believing?

On my way.
Never looking back.
I approach the cliff,
the prospect; black.

I go to the mirror
Surprise
I hate the girl once again.
So I'll get the bleach.
I'll get the dye.
To change my aspects
To disguise
When all I want is to die (dye)

Choking on words
While consonants hold me back
"you need help"
My mind does snap
Pushing the limit
Stupid me, so timid
I comfort all
But all doesn't stop to think
About the girl starting to
*sink.