Images

I have all these images in the recesses of my mind. All so beautiful. All not mine. So clear and in my head, racing and racing around whilst I’m still in bed. The colors so vivid in a mind so black. I cannot erase this sensory attack.

                Her hair whips around her face as she stands atop the highest place. Sky so blue, arms outstretched,she feels free staring down at a world where she’s lacked. The wind isn’t vivid but it swirls, her hair is messy, a disarray of curls.

                The boy sits in the back of the class, in a desk that lacks peg and a back. He never talks and hardly listens. He has no friends and no person, neither student or teacher has bothered to change that submission.

                She sits at a public bench. She sits every morning at the same time. She smiles to those that glance her way and loves to chat if given the time of day. Every night, she sits on her forty year old bed, off to the side and cries… and cries and cries.

                He sings in the church, the top part for boys. So beautiful is his voice that it is sure to be heard. This boy has a secret, one that he hides. A secret that eats away at his insides. He doesn’t feel lost, nor is he confused. It’s what he believes, if only his parents knew.  

                She’s young, barely fourteen. She knows what she’s been called and knows what they see. Her virginity was given on an unsuspecting night, over a year ago in the back of a car. After that first night, she just went back for more. She’s the High School s**t, who doesn’t feel anymore.

                He lives on his own, owns his own house. He’s young but has no spouse. He works day in and day out, no time for friends, no time to go out. He clings to phrases like ugly and you’re not good enough, they echo around his empty house.

                She sings. She sings all the time. Though, she knows she can’t sing worth a dime. She loves music so much but cannot play a note, was never in choir and has no piano. She cannot whistle, she can hardly read or write. She sings to fill her boring nights.

                He’s happy. He knows that for a fact. He doesn’t smile all day but is content and laid back. He has ambitions and dreams and constantly strives, shaping his future and bettering his life. His mother’s an alcoholic, his dad a deadbeat. They influenced his life greatly but still, he’s happy.