NoRealJuice

My chest rises and falls with manual breaths. It is spring in Michigan; the rain fresh. I overhear the chatter and cackling of classmates I consider myself distant from. I watch the fat, balding man who is our substitute teacher bite his nails ( a bad habit I share) and I feel alone. I wish to be somewhere else. Away from the goofy laughter and mendacity of my environment. I wish I didn't feel so alienated and held responsible for a smile when I wish I could just fade away. I wish I could fly. The grass under my feet looks limp and worn; the soil sinking under my weight. I am still alive. Bubblegum pop. The green makes me nostalgic to the s

I was discussing my insecurities about a boy I let go because I felt he was too beautiful for me. You were trying to console me when I interrupted with "It's snowing. Stick your head out the window." You said you refused to believe in snow right now. Sometimes I wish my window was high enough for me to jump out of and die. It'd be graceful and worth admiration. "You don't wanna die right now." Not enough to actually do it. Just enough to think about it. ... I looked to the sky. It was gray and the snow seemed helpless and I felt again that I don't believe in God. "It isn't helpless. The snow has complete control over its actions and it