“it’s what my heart says that is what I listen to, it’s what my heart feels that tells me what to do”

Today I was asked what poetry was and I couldn’t help think your eyes. Eyes that seemed to penetrate me with every passing moment. Eyes that I wished would never leave me. We were given a moment to think about the definition of poetry and I kept thinking how your eyes danced when you smiled. I sat there oblivious to the world around because I was lost in this quaint little daydream of you. I sighed. Never could one element of one human being in this world filled with so much could encapture me so deeply. I never wanted to lose sight of your eyes, or your smile, or your hair. I wanted to remember every single piece of you. I closed my eyes and drifted, like I always did when I felt you near. I forgot how I lost myself in the rhythm and rhyme of you and the memories. It all flowed too easily. I silently, unnoticably, awoke from my visit to the past and heard a voice in the distance, a question directed at me.
“What is poetry to you?”
“Loneliness,” I replied, thinking about your eyes.

I am thinking about writing more again. Everyday, hopefully, if and when I am inspired. I miss losing myself in my daydreams.

I did not accomplish much of anything today. After returning home from my after-school rehearsals of ‘Breaking the Chain’ and buying my father an ice cream birthday cake, I only achieved accomplishing one physics assignment. Granted I have ample time to complete the calculus assignment that I have, but I am running out of days to finish my science project AND my research term paper. I foreshadow many long nights in the future. If I do not finish these two things, my grades are likely to mirror those that I received first semester of junior year. This is something that cannot happen.

I worry too much about grades–as I should be since it is vital in my college acceptance. I know that I have the grades and scores to get into college now, but I cannot afford to lose the acceptances once final transcripts are sent out. I cannot afford to stay here any longer.

Nothing monumental happened today. I am in a bit of a quandary. I was asked to deliver a letter to a friend by another friend [names have been changed to protect the innocent]. This letter contains language that can be an embarrassment to the writer–or in other words, it sucks. So, if I send this letter, she risks being laughed at and humored. If I do not send the letter, but say I did, then the third party will ask about it after being informed about its existence. Of course, there is always the option to return the letter and have her mail it herself–but that may be considered rude. Whatever I choose, I do not want to lie.

I now feel guilty that I did not finish my calculus assignment. Another day.

you can write pretty little love songs
about love gone wrong and hearts left broken
and say that you’ve experienced it all
but unless you saw the darker side
of all the pain you think you know
then you’ll know why I cannot do this.