I really should be in bed right now. In fact, I was in bed. But then I had a minor panic attack and realised that all of you will stop reading if I stop posting. So here I am, posting instead of sleeping. Please enjoy, and please keep checking, because tonight I have renewed my vow: I WILL post a poem every day, and, at some point in the near future, I WILL get caught up. Seriously, I will. I made a list of first-lines-of-songs today to act as inspiration and as of RIGHT NOW I promise to force myself to sit in this chair every single night before I go to bed and write at least one poem. I will also force myself to write at least one over breakfast every morning and at least one at lunch at school every day. That is at least three poems EVERY DAY for the next while until I get caught up. Well now I am rambling and really should stop (because this part is surely boring for all of you) and go to sleep.
Leaving
Ripping.
Tearing.
Why must I go?
Why can't I stay?
So warm in there ,
so cold out here.
It hurts,
it aches.
It kills me when I go.
I hate it when I'm gone.
Getting up is hard.
Walking home is hard.
Because I'm not walking home,
because I already am home.
You are home,
we are home.
I want this pain to go away,
I need my world to stay this way.
Just one more moment,
just one more second,
before I have to leave.
But now I have to leave.
Ripping,
tearing,
leaving.
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