Just Writing From Within

I want to be what you want It’s as simple as that I will bend And shift  And mold Until I can be “right” – The perfect fit I will give you everything I have If that’s what you want If that’s what it takes You say “ jump ” I’ll say “ how high ? ” I will stand so you can sit I will walk so you can soar I will break so you can be whole But please Don’t let me break

the words never last  they flow in and out of my  head swarming around me but disappearing as soon as I  need them I run for paper the sentences already forming in my  mind  dancing together in perfect harmony then                 nothing they go as quickly as they  come wandering through my  veins  leaving impressions but  never footprints  fragmented thoughts unfinished ideas fleeting concepts  and blank pages the greatest story that was never told

There is no getting rid of you Everywhere I go I am reminded  Of you Of what you did I see you in the faces Of children Free and careless Something you stole from me I taste you in the  Liquid That I tried to drown you with But you never sank I hear you in the silence When darkness surrounds me And it is only me And my nightmares I smell you on my clothes A staun I could never get out Despite the fire I  Burned them in And I feel you all around Every sudden movement Every delicate touch Every burning stare It’s you Claiming what you Labeled  Yours You are everywhere  Yet you are so far away I long for a day to remember  What it was like Before I was yours

“Are you in here?” My legs shook as I felt her footsteps closing in. I wasn’t really hiding, but I didn’t want to be found. I wanted to leave; I wanted to run.  “Liza?” she cooed in a sing-song voice. I didn’t say anything. I was frozen to my favorite spot in the corner of the library. As she turned the corner and saw me, her eyes lit up. So did mine, but not with excitement – with terror. “Hey, how’s it going?” I tried to hide the shaking in my voice, but failed miserably. “Why so nervous? It’s just me,” she soothed as she sat down too close to me and brushed her hand against my leg. Why did I wear a skirt today?  “Oh sorry, I’m not nervous,” I lied, “just thinking about what I should wear for the first day of school tomorrow.”  “How about I help? I remember my first day of second grade.” But I knew she wasn’t thinking about what she wore. The sinister look in her eyes told me a different story.  “I really like this skirt,” she complimented as her r...