Meredith Wade

You've Got Mail
I see a letter
white and innocent
Propped against a pepper shaker
Upon the kitchen table
I pick it up,
paper smooth and cool
To my tentative touch
I think of all that it could be
Is it a scholarship to the university of my dreams?
A letter from a long-lost friend?
A secret message from the one I love?
How can there be so much possibility
Within one piece of paper
Folded and glued
I cannot take it any longer
I rip it open only to find
A flier for a camping trip
It seems to mock at my hopeful dreams
I throw it in the recycling bin
Maybe next time, I think.

Tuesday, 31

I walk. The forest around me is stationery yet in a constant breath of motion that shows its singular flicks of life in the colors of green that arc through the spiral rainbow that my vision is while I am here. As the sky above me clouds I discover my timing is such that making it back home in time to stay dry is an imaginable way of spending ones energy, in its stead I remove my shoes and close my eyes for a moment to take in the soft lichen and pine carpet that the trees around drop for me in this peace I have come to adore. I begin to walk again along the roots of an elm tree and run my fingers along the ridges of her bark. I feel her breath coming with the movement of the remaining emerald speckles on the ground that the leaves careless glow has left in an elegant pattern that every tailor has tried to mimic since before the people of common wealth could afford fabric of color.

Friday

Today I am in epically serious need of a large strawberry's and cream thing from starbucks and some serious retail therapy. I have spent the day watching Jane Austins and painting sketches that aren't worth the trouble of telling you about. I feel oh so under the weather I simply don't know what to do with myself.

Tomorrow I am competing in the State Lacrosse Tournament and I hope I will do well enough to score or at least get put into a game. I am so nervous.

Ah well. This post wasn't worth its time.

Until I write again,

KC

Thursday

I look over the small abyss that is my balcony, a tempting voice screaming malcontent into my thoughts. In what case would they mourn you? its sharp pictures seemed to coax. Images of my lucid skinned body, floating in the water stuck behind my eyes. I imagined the people of the park finding my drowned body the next morning, my black eyes the only color left to be found on me, my skin decomposing in the waxy way it seems to with the drowned body's of the sailors that wash up to shore on occasion, though the police claim them nothing more than seals, brought in by the undertow. I look over the tower. Encased in lights the size of small buttons, its flickering aura seems to cast an almost living glow over this decrepit ruin of what was said to be the most glorious of city's. As I leave my small apartment I set my destination in my head, blocking out the incessant scream of disease that has claimed my mind since I was small. The scares on my face and neck show my countless attempts to rid myself of this infectious depression. I run my hand over the deepest mark, and indent over where my voice would reside, and miss the feeling of being able to speak. A cool branch whips my face as I walk by it and I can feel the blood leak from my temple down to my hand that rests on my collar bone. The warmth on my hands gives me extra life to simply complete this last task before I can sleep. In a moment of frozen insparation I smear the dark blood over my hands and neck. The slight thaw it gives my damaged skin is relief enough to take the last steps twords the tower. I pull myself up and begin to climb the stairs. Up and up. Bitter wind follows me as I climb until I reach the top with nothing but my voice to keep me company in the dark of this night. I walk to the eadge of this city's most cherished posetion, and take my final breath as I leap from the top. They found my body in the morning, at the feet of La Tour Eiffel.

Hello Anybody's?

Hi.

This is my first post and I really don't know if anybody will read this page ever so I am just going to write what I think here. Maybe some writing idea's. School Drama. Really whatever is on my mind. So here goes nothing:

Today. Its Sunday. I think. Today we had the funeral for Percy. I wish I could forget that he died. I wish he just had not died in the first place really. There are allot of things I regret about how I treated him. What I said to him. Things like that. I feel that I could have at least tired to get him to like me. Even when I found him I was not crying because he would never come and invade my room and make my brain run out my nose in the middle of the night, or that I would never find him in the bathroom sink in the morning while I was trying to brush my teeth. I cried because I was scared. I did not realize until that moment that I could die. It sounds silly but that's really how I felt. He was in the road. Every street crossing I had ever made that was illegal crossed before my eyes and then I pictured Each of my friends down there, by the curb. All cold. And dead. And forgotten. And bloody. Then my sisters. My mom. And myself. I could not stop shaking and I still can't get the picture of him lying down there out of my head.

Of coarse, things haven't changed much for me. I still cross over to the Trax station in the middle of the road. I cross before the little man turns white and tells us to stand in the middle of the road with our foot up (somehow, they think this tells us its safe to walk across the road) and I am still an alergic wreck ever time I try to fall asleep. Its alright thouogh. My sister's are getting over it. I'm just glad I don't have to put up with them screaming and sobing every time I mention his name from now on.

Until next time or something...

Kate