Batel sighs.

Her hands are rough from washing them so much. Maybe it's the virus. Maybe she just wants to feel clean.

She has worked hard again to keep a good grade average. Spring break is a day away and she should be excited.

Shouldn't she be happy that she's doing well in school?

Shouldn't she be happy that she's moving out in a few months?

Shouldn't she be happy that she's uprooting her life and starting new?

Why do these old memories keep popping into her head.

Distracting her when she should be asleep.

His hands. Their lips. That touch.

She hadn't felt the urges for the past several months. It had been a dry winter.

But now that spring was here, and the trees were blooming, and the outside was coloring itself in again, so was she.

Like a tiny little plant inside her had somehow lasted through the cold.

A small feeling had returned.

And it was growing by the hour, filling up closer and closer to the top.

Batel almost knocked over her water glass.

The clock is counting time backwards again. My life hasn’t moved forward in so long that I feel like I’m stuck inside some sort of 90’s one hit wonder mix tape . I’m caught up inside the player, trying desperately to not be torn or bent in a way that I will not be of any use to society again. But if I can’t unravel myself out of this mess I’ve got myself into then I will continue to go backward on this candied apple carnival ride. I walk through the park and memories suddenly flood my mind as I smell a salt infused breeze mixed with cherry cola and boiled nuts. It makes me feel somewhat alive again. I’m 16 and indestructible. I can feel the aroma as it penetrates it concessions through out every inch of my once fit beach bronzed body. I am free from the prison of adulthood. I am a gangster, living life in SoHo. I have brass knuckles and balls as big and as bad as Billy Bob Thorntons in Dirty Santa. I avenge anyone that keeps me from fighting against my inner rebel yell self. There I am driving my red match box convertible. I am sitting on top of the world guzzling down fruit flavored spring water from glass bottles by day and Boone’s Farm at night. I roll myself up in Bob Marley fashion and tuck stuffed metal pipes in my pants pocket, along side powdery baby jars tucked discreetly in my straw carry on. I never missed a beat and had no care in the world. I was a wreck-less wild child wonder full of missed birth control pills and camel wides smoke filled lungs. A girl trying to find her way draped in flannel in a world that still hadn’t been altered by the web and cell phones. It was the decade of the 90’s and I had nothing but youth on my side. Those were the days.

we all drink from the same well regardless of how we got there. so, i'm going to say i understand your feeling because i didn't walk the path you took to this feeling but just know there is someone sitting here drinking the same old feelings at the same old place. alone till you came along. so sit by me and we don't have to talk. the best peace of mind comes when you meet someone who you don't have to talk to. splashing from buckets, sinking into the ground and moss-covered rocks we can all see you spilling out and just know, i've felt that. so sit down and don't hide because there is no need to hide.

Noticed the gentle blind man

had stood on top of the ant colony

a young girls raven tattoo

the animated italian speaking girl 

and the older man carrying a campbed

that my belly sticks out

that it started to rain the moment my tv show finished

that my friend wrote to me

that i am sitting on the toilet

that its a pleasant rain that falls

soft with promise

that tomorrow is another day

that 'when I pick up the phone, theres still nobody home'

that the rain will fall when we are gone

How does it feel to have your heart break

Well it's like a smile you have to fake

It takes away every ounce of happy

The truth is broken hearts make you feel crappy

I don't know why I wrote this in poem form

I guess it's my way of getting through the storm

That's what you'll need when your heart breaks

No matter how long the healing takes.