The Somewhere: Bricks and Cement

Fuck.
Shit.
God Damnit.
Why can't you just look and see me?
Well.


I know you can. 
Kinda Sorta. 
You just don't stop.
You don't consider looking at cracks.


The old school walls are a burgundy color that no one finds interesting.


Maybe once in awhile.
For a brief second.
Someone.

She was new in school, I think. 
Never saw her before until sophmore year.
Pretty outgoing. 
Liked piano.
I think she was part of the prayer group.
Fuck.
It's so messed up.

 

She hit the pavement like a fucking dead pigeon when it hits a window.
The schoolbus pulled up at the right moment.


I think.
I think.


I think she planned it.
Yeah.

 

"Hit it and Quit it."
That's what she's been called.
By some.


They hung a memorial on my left wing.
No one has drawn on it yet.
That's nice.

 

I try to make sure no one fucks with it.
No one will see me.
No one does.
No, well.
They do but really they just.
Pass by me.

I know that those two girls are fighting.


I know that he knocked up a teacher.


I know the teacher isn't divorced yet.


I know.
I know.
I hear.
Fuck. 
Shit.

 

I still just keep cracking.
No one will call for me anymore.
No one will look at the pale morter between my pieces.


I want to cry.
It hurts.
Fuck.
Fuck. 


Why did you leave me?


Why couldn't I of been more than fucking walls?


Why did you have to use me.
As.
A diving board.

 

Burgandy isn't a memorable color.
It's like that one video.
How'd it go?
With puppets and shit.
She showed it to me.


And she told me that my hoodie's color suited me.

Connor LannesDepressionHighschoolSadnessSuicideThe Somewhere

◄ Invisible Shark Syndrome

Beyond the Plastic Pole. ►

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