Sienna lifted her fingers from the chipped ivory keys. She looked down at her shaking hands, bearing the burden of her secret's secrets. Her melodies, that had once been so gentle and pure, like the fresh snow, were now heavy and made the heart ache. In her small room of few objects and many walls, she swayed to the throb of her own song. Bubbling to the surface was years of realization, guilt, fear. The demons drifted out from her soul and wrapped around anything they came into contact with. Even her writings withered at her touch. There was not a single laugh nor careless giggle left inside her being. She had been hallowed out by the pain of many lifetimes.
Sienna's piano, her one last hope, melted away into another memory as the room faded into the foreground. She fell all the way through the back of the world, where no one would dare search for her. At this distance, she could still hear her sad lullabies weaving through a network of buzzing ideas.
The alone was eerily perfect. She forgot to hold back her tears and fears. They fumbled out of her mind in a mess, and from some other world she saw her figure collapse into a pitiful heap.
Life was in her hands, like the seed of a rose, which she could choose to nurse to a towering beauty that would only prick her to tears in the end. Or she should crush it into a dust, and let it rejoin the free-blowing wind.
Instead, Sienna idly let her hands drift along the sad notes, which so screamed for freedom of the boundaries of her mind. For eternity she was caged into this loop of events, this mindset. But if she only pleased, it would be too easy to let go and slip past where one can ever return...

Filled right to the brim; more than content

So last night (this morning?) I stayed up, again, to watch the sun rise. And smartypants me, I grabbed my journal and ran outside so I could capture the feeling. And smartypants me ran through the wet grass like an idiot, to find that my step dad was standing on the front porch, starting at me like I'm an idiot. Which I am. But it was wonderful.

This is what I got.

I can feel the world coming back to me.
Dusty blue, deep turquoise, faded baby pinks highlighting the clouds. Steady shining moon, breaking through the morning dew. Sweet bitter cold, nipping at breathing skin. Sky and heart connecting. Wake up.
I am in love. I am in love with this precious world around me, croaking frogs and twinkling stars.That's enough for me. Whether or not i have someone to share it with... this is enough for me.
Never have I tasted air so sweet, nor as fresh. Never have I seen nature such as this.
This is bliss.
This is beautiful.
Everything is glowing with dawn.
Mist rises from the crisp earth, meeting in the middle with the sky that is just as perfect.
Bliss.
From soaking blades of grass, to the sturdy uneven concrete, feet dance with resistance.
Bright cerulean clashing with puffs of salmon, streaking and exploding across the vast skies. Like careful strokes of wings, rising against the still air. Still... like the clouds, massive and powerful, but steady.
Frozen toes nor "battery low" can sway my heart from overflowing with peace. Bright and proud I rise. I reach out to individuals, not as a whole. Filling at each stop, with love.
Bliss.
Good morning crows, as you kiss the clouds. The cold is refreshing and rejuvenating. Never bitter. Awe and splendor as the sun comes to brushed the horizon. Never have I seen such splendor...
Clouds fade to porcelain, sky to clear and even blue. It is the wings of love that swish and swirl the skies, those wings that add the life to this planet.
This home.
This Dawn.

Goodbye, Lia

                A sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sign, trickled out between my parted lips. I imagined the noise as a fine stream of light green mist, rising into the clouds.

                I could hear my heart pounding through my ears. My body felt overwhelmed, bursting at the seams, alive.

                The sun’s shine dried small drops of rain off my arms and chest. The grass beneath me was soaked.

                I used to think that I could outrun the rain. Not the drizzle-type rain, the deafening kind of rain. The weather where people crash their cars and houses topple over. People call me crazy for being in a wide open field when the skies are in the midst of a war. I find it the safest place in the world to be. Especially with Lia.

                I heard her muffled thud as she lied down beside me. I listened to her ragged breath as she attempted to slow her pulse.

                “You always beat me,” she said, the same green smoke trailing along her words.

                I smiled. “Only because you stop and look at every tree you pass.”

                “Why don’t you stop to look around? Have you ever noticed how beautiful the world is?” Her tone was light, the topic was not. She pulled her left leg up to her forehead, stretching her toned muscles.

                “I like to get here before you. After that I have plenty of time to observe my surroundings.” I reached over and curled a stray piece of her hair around my finger.

                Lia laughed. “Always so competitive,” she said.

                I turned my head and felt the rubbery grass crinkle around me. Her eyes, soft and golden, held mine. It was scary how she could do that, look and me and fill me with so much love. Sometimes I wished she would just away, I needed her to leave. I needed to step out of this frightening lust, and back into our comfortable friendship. I have to… but part of me wasn’t ready to let her go. This love felt so right, why should I have to give it up?

                Lia looked up at the sky. It had begun to rain again. Fat drops of water landed on my jeans. I watched them settle through the fibers.

                “I’m going home tomorrow,” Lia said her voice indifferent.

                “I know.” What else was there to say? I know you’ll always walk away. I know my home will never yours. I know I’m not good enough for you. But I can’t change her mind, I and I don’t want to either. I wished she would change her mind on her own. I suppose there could be a chance for her to come out, and tell me how much I mean to her. This happening was immensely unlikely.

                I stood up and brushed dirt off my palms.

                “Where are you going?” Now she begs. But it’s too late.

                “Lia, I cannot keep being your toy. This-” my voice cracked. She’s begging for this last moment, why am I backing away? This was what I wanted.

                She watched me as I wringed my hands and let out short sputters of breath. “Naomi, please, I’m sorry, you know…” Her words trailed off. She suddenly sounded very childish.

                I looked up and sighed toward the sky and I dug my heels into the soft soil. Rain splattered down around me. I was preparing for takeoff. I looked ahead to the line of trees. They were far away, but not far enough. Nothing would be far enough to get away. “What, Lia, what do I know?” I whispered to the floor, this beautiful, rich green floor. She heard me.

                “If you run again,” she gulped, “I won’t come after you this time.”

                Tears of fury shot up through my throat. “This time? Are you implying there was a time when you would try to find me? Have you ever put me first?” I could feel my muscles flexing, craving for me to run. I wanted to run so bad, worse than I ever had before.

                “No, no, I know you understand, come lay down, the clouds are so pretty.” She grabbed for my hand. Her eyebrows were knit together tightly. Her knees were bent, as if ready to pull me with all her strength. Lucky for me, she’s the weakest person I know.

                I shrank away from her touch like it was a burning flame. I don’t understand. I have no idea who this girl in front of me is; all I know is who she pretends to be.

                Lia plopped down on the ground, looking like a pitiful seven year old. And oh how I did pity her.

                “I just, I feel so lost, and I don’t know. I can’t be as confident as you. But that’s why I need you, because I know you can fix it and you…” She was talking to me, I think. She was whining. Dear god, shut up.

                I gazed off into the woods, thinking about all those kind whispers, and a pair of soft hands drifting over my face, never holding back. I thought of how different these two girls were. Then it struck me, after all the thinking and crying and thinking and expressing, I know what I want. Lia was still talking, now hiccupping in sobs.

                I reached down and pulled off my sneakers. I tied the laces together and hung it over my wrist. Lia screamed my name, she screamed for me to stop, to save her.

                It was pouring as I ran through the forming mud and flattened blades of grass. The sound of Lia’s cries was drowned out by the crack of thunder. My hair flowed behind me. Our field wasn’t so big. Before I knew it I had reached the edge of the woods. Of course, this didn’t stop me. I jumped over fallen branches and tapped on the trees that flew by. My legs had a mind of their own, my soul drifted above my body, watching as a gleeful smile reached my eyes.

                Go back to your boyfriends, Lia. I can’t keep waiting for you. I need someone who knows who they are, and she’s here. But it won’t ever be you.

Alien Skin

I have transformed from brick wall of smiles into mirror with cracked edges. When people look at me, they see what they want to see. They refuse to look a little deeper, to see the pain. If they saw it, then they have to deal with it. Let’s be real, no one wants to deal with each other’s pain. We’d rather stay in our fantasy worlds and pretend everything is just dandy.

I have become a mirror.

I blend into the background. I copy my surroundings. I can become invisible.

Eight out of eighteen. Overall grade: eighty-five. Four questions answered incorrectly. But we get a second chance, because it’s a pretend test. You get three tries. Outside three crows fly by, and one seagull lands on a roof. I listen to the buildings cry and try to look past the stains on the window. Students laugh around me, but I don’t hear them. I feel the air vibrate and the waves float past my hands. The laughter wraps around my fingertips and mocks me.

I raise my hand and count to seven. I put my hand back down. My vision goes blurry and my cheeks catch on fire. If I cry, my mascara will run down my face, stick into my pores, and never let go. I’ll feel the pain for weeks. I look up and turn my mind white. Count to thirty. Back down to my paper. Number four, incorrect. Grab the text book, turn to the glossary. Dry skin rubs against itself. It hurts. I have to stop. Left hand reaches for the back of my neck, where my spine juts out, and my hair covers the skin. Jagged nails dig, dig, dig, until they hit raw muscle. Wade through muscle until I hit bone. Around the bone, grasp the spinal cord, become paralyzed. The nerves stop communicating to the brain, I stop tasting the air. I stop hearing metal rust. I stop seeing atoms zip through empty space. I stop feeling every section of my skin stretching against itself.

Is that how normal people live? I don’t know if I envy you… or pity you. My world is so beautiful. It is full of florescent colors, conflicting with each other to create an explosion of light. Everywhere. What is yours like? Faded greens splashed over layers of gray?

My world is magnificent. The pain is bearable, as long as I get the glorious shine. It makes me feel alone. But that’s how I like it. My solitude never leaves me. If you had my brain for a day, you would go mad. Years and years and years have trained me to come to peace with my malfunction. I embrace it all. And in return, it will never leave me.

You have memories in images, pictures.

I have memories in fugacious smells. I can know exactly when and where they came from. It makes me sad to remember like that. You can’t draw a scent. You can’t name a scent. You can’t take a picture of a scent. All I can do is hope the memory will come back someday. But I hate to rely on hope.

It's time for a happy story.

I think it’s time for a happy story.

I sat at the window, staring. I watched the death melt and flow away. Everything is temporary, right? That’s what I told myself over and over during this season.

I hate winter.

Everything is dead.

The trees are dead, under those three feet of hideous, rotten snow, there is dead grass, and in every crevice there are small things with barely a pulse, trying to hang onto life.

But none of that matters anymore. Because now it is spring. I can feel it and I can smell it and I can see the air better. It’s so beautiful, this world.

And now the grass is wet and the color of hay because it was just raining and the grass is still dead. The sun came out though, now everything is marvelous. I want to stay out there forever. I want to lie down and feel LIFE beneath me; I want to feel a part of something.

Even the bugs, yes I miss those stupid little bugs. I hate bugs usually because I don’t like how they feel on my skin. It tickles and sometimes I can’t tell when there’s something on me and when there’s not and then I get paranoid and then everything hurts.

I don’t think about that right now. I ignore how cold my toes are and the fact that the bottoms of my pants are getting wet from walking through puddles. Not even the little things can ruin my mood right now.

The sky is so blue. I remember we learned at school why the sky is blue. But I wasn’t paying attention that day because outside it was raining and I like to watch the rain. Today there is not a single cloud in the sky either. I remember my father used to say this almost every morning when we walked to his car to get bagels for breakfast.

The wind is still a little cold. I’m sure in a few months I’ll be trying to remember how cool and fresh everything was. But now I’m hoping for it to be warmer faster.

I don’t feel so alone when I’m outside. Well, I do feel alone, but it’s a different kind of lonely. It’s the peaceful kind. I feel that even though I’m alone and if I cried, no one would be here to comfort me, my little complex world feel whole. As if the missing piece to my puzzle has been found, and after everything is put together, I can smile without having to convince someone I’m okay even though I’m not. I just smile because I’m happy and that’s what people do when they’re happy.

Despite everything that is happening with my friends and that boy, I am happy. At this moment, I’m so happy that I think I’m going to cry. Because when you cry when you’re sad, your heart hurts and the world looks like a single shade of gray. When you’re happy and you cry, things are brighter and you notice things you normally wouldn’t notice, like how there are so many blandes of grass so close to you. Then you remember how much you love your friends and family because they would cry for you too.

So I cry, because I’m so in love with my solitude.