You asked for it

Ohhhh, the paaaaain!
At the urging of , I’ll subject you all to some poetry from my high school notebook. *blushes* I’m more inclined to share the essay on Death of a Salesman that my teacher liked so much, but that wouldn’t be nearly so interesting, I suppose. Without further ado, behold what a cheeseball I was in high school:

Twilight Blue
no friendly smiles
brighten her day.
Chin up
lip stiff
try to pretend
it doesn’t hurt
but eyes
deep blue
as twilight sky
belying turmoil
raging inside.
The world laughs
scorns her pain
turns its back.
She needs a friend.
Shall I join
the world
scorn her pain
turn my back
from friend so
but never a chance
to show?
Hand stretched
meets hand.
Twilight blue
creeps into my being.

*bwahahahaha* *wipes eyes*
Ah, memories.
Up next: “Millionaire for a Day.” I a
ctually wrote fiction in high school. I forgot about that. I never did outside of school because I thought I sucked, but looking at this little piece, I’m actually surprised at how non-sucky it is. Not good, but certainly non-sucky.
ETA: given the gem of a find in Veronica Gerrard, “Millionaire for a Day” will wait for another day.