People think I am a statue in a cloak,
Something just for show.
If I prove myself to them
One day they will know.
That I have feelings they’ve never even felt
I’ve seen things they’ve never seen before.
They think they are intelligent,
But clearly I know more.
I smile to myself when I think
These kids learn things, though nothing compares to me.
I can see everything they were too scared to look at.
I know who they want to be.
I know who I am just as well as they do.
For I am all living things, in conclusion
This whole earth is fake,
The life they’re living is just an illusion.
“When Dad comes back, will he know? The secrets I mean, the secrets of the world. Will He?” When Kayla asked this question, it sounded harmless, though the reaction of her family was somewhat different. “Kayla!” Never ask that question again. That is forbidden, Understood? Her mother snapped. “Yes,” the young girl replied, saddened by the scolding.
When her father came home, there was no rejoicing. He seemed disturbed by something, but refused to tell. Passing his office Kayla overheard her father on the phone on the other and of the line a voice said, “This species will wipe us of planet earth, unless we get rid of her first. Her father took a deep breath and murmured. Yes. I understand. Kayla will get beheaded tomorrow. I’m booking the session now.”
Kayla tried to stay expressionless, But where would she keep all of the tears?
This was the end.
PS: Sorry this is late!
The fire in the backyard, the fairy lights around, there is no place more peaceful.
It is dark, nearly midnight, but the town is still thriving. The New Year’s Eve fireworks, the flickering orange light of the fire.
The gentle strumming the guitar, the once annoying, but now peaceful hum of the cicadas. The laughter of my friends, the waves crashing to the shore.
Wide- eyed and alive, we are lost in time. We walk down the road, we feel safe and comfortable, but wild and free.
Can we stay here forever? Will we ever calm down, feel tired, ever?
The good, playful vibes, the feeling that you can do anything, with no stresses in the world. The dread of going home. I don’t want to leave.
Lost In time, never sleeping,
Lost in time,
Running, reckless, ticking turning, doors are locking,
No more time.
Stabbing, screaming, fading, fearing,
Running away from this unknown crime.
Blood is dripping, she is dying, clutching the gun, hysteric crying.
This is Murder.