the clouds break and i die.
i guess i'll start living
too busy to be dying
need something to break the monotony of crying
it numbs me
no longer having feeling can make relationships strained
invisibly i stay chained to routine
hating where i am
and sighing when i remember i am still here
75 cent savior
my savior crouches helpless in the corner
my very own bought for 75 cents at the drug store
nobody else understands him
he waits
my weak savior has become me
and i find solace in his ceramic beauty
facing the corner, as if being punished
like me, insecure
he rattles when my stereo blasts
but never breaks,never even turns
never have i looked him in the eyes
i am afraid of what he is
Mirror,Mirror
the warm sticky rain breathes in through my window
making me short of breath and dizzy
the humidity of my insanity
sticky sweat and tears
listening to one song over and over
nobody ever told me I was beautiful
with good reason i suppose
I look in the mirror and assure myself
someday I'll grow out of this
one day someone will say I'm beautiful
the smell of the rain and the familiar song console me
I look away from my haunted mirror
taken over by humiliating self-pity
I mock myself in the glass
my mirror never told me I was ugly
Dancing on the patio.
I never dreamed of being an astronaut
the moon always scared me
we catch each other's breath in jars
and pretend we are children again
our dreams got washed into oblivion when we turned 13
everything we wished for was sucked down the drain of maturity
now we just don't care about dancing anymore
we both are so bored anymore
ALL POETRY BY JESSICA LASSITER COPYRIGHT 99.
photo of braid...thanx
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