hush little baby don't say a word...

I can't fall asleep. My mother and sister are fighting again. They fight almost every night now. Their screams have become my new lullaby. They yell. Feet stomp. Door slams. They yell louder. -Sometimes I wish I was never born- -Well sometimes I wish the same thing- -You don't love me- -You don't care- Another door slams. I try to muffle the sounds from under my pillow but it never works. They drone on, complaining about something else insignificant. My mother will come in, checking to see I am sleeping. What I really do is close my eyes shut , praying the tears squeeze through. Eventually they will stop but I can still hear the hushed sobs and stifled breaths of the aftermath. I think they hurt me more than they hurt each other. I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling, just listening, breathing, wishing. One day I will leave. Move to a place far away where there is no sound at night but the quiet hum of darkness. Silence can drive people crazy but this house is worse than any insane asylum.

Snow- the unnecessary freezing of water

Today it snowed for the 19th time since early November. The snow has become nothing more than a lackluster annoyance. Its magic has been drowned in the rivers of slush. The first snow of winter always feels significant and almost unreal, as if I were really living in a snow globe where everything is white and pure. But as the snow melts so does its charm. Now it is dirty and irritating. It is nothing unusual or exciting due to the fact that it now snows at least once a week. It has become commonplace to see a blanket of grayish ice-snow-slush-dirt mixture covering lawns, parking lots, driveways, side streets, walkways, everything. It is absurdly excessive. Even after the snow semi-melts my lawn is left a swampland. i could take a boat out on the lakes the snow creates in my backyard. I am over winter and all of its demonic weather. I am done with Bill Evans telling me tomorrows forecast calls for another 1-3 inches. I am fed up with scraping ice off my windshield in 30 degree weather. I am tired of the bottom of my jeans being soaking wet from trekking through unplowed sidewalks. I want to see the grass. I want to be dry. I want the snow to stop.

A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes

Sometimes I dream that I am running. Running away from something that scares me. Scares me enough to be running without shoes. I never know what exactly it is. I simply know that I am afraid of it. I never find out what it is either. Then I fall. It is the only part of the dream that stays consistent. I fall. But I am not falling from anywhere or to anywhere. Just falling. Finally I wake up like in T.V. with a sudden exaggerated inhale, still feeling in free fall but knowing it was all just a dream. Whenever I wake up I feel someone was watching me. No one is. It is just me, the darkness, and the life size elvis poster on my wall. Someday someone will be there. They will take me away forever. I won't have to run anymore. I will be gone and no one will even notice.