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cold goosebumbs are forming upon the translucent skin of my arms they are showing blood vessels flowing all the way to my fingertips. . . sickly i feel the carbonation from my pop bubbling in my stomach as my 100 year knee cramp is beginning to kick in again. . . tired i feel my chlorinated eyes begin to close as my brain blocks almost any chance for my creative juices to flow enough to write the story that's been playing in my mind forever. . . forgotten a story i was aspiring to write and a good poem that's been playing in my mind like a broken record every night before i fall asleep before my insomnia dies. . . waiting for the time to pass so i can go do something and begin to feel that i have a social life beyond school hours if i can only last until 6:30. . . |  |
