summer

your roar is dull and lifeless
i imagine you blonde and boring
i once was called brooding
if only for my dark hair.

I am clawing at my insides
trying to find a foot-hold
to pull myself back out
the raging, the rampant
curse of a girl

every night i slaughter
the voices in my mind
that say lay down and die
and every night i whisper
myself to sleep and i say
'oh sweet girl,
we'll be back to our
regularly scheduled program
right after this commercial break'

i think of you
there's not much else
my mind the halls of school
mid-july
janitors pry open lockers
mop my brain-floors
and throw away
old forgotten sandwiches

yes, i need a foothold
my arms have grown fleshy and weak
more wings than thick branches
and as always i fall too fast
and shatter with a crash