she keeps one finger on the steering wheel
some of the time, a half *** deal
she speeds because she’s perpetually behind
but deep down at the back of her mind
should an accident just happen to occur,
this would ensure that she would not recur.
should cancer take her body as its host
her reaction would perhaps be more positive than most
for no one would reason her apathetic bent
the why, when she would not opt for treatment.
she danders in storms because she would rather like
to be the victim of a lightning strike
she knows it’s selfish but
she can’t help but wish
there was a collateral free option to cease to exist
all she wants is to simply fade
to softly escape the mess of life she made
it ebbs and flows, the urge to act is tidal
hence why she is termed; passively suicidal

sometimes i let go of the wheel

In my head
I have this mantra
For anytime I feel uncomfortable
Or sad
Or just plain bad

I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home
I want to go home

The saddest part
Is that I say it in my own house

proof that if people take the time to get to know you they will eventually begin to notice the little things like:

I tie small pieces of my hair in knots
whenever I'm thinking hard about something
because it makes my dad laugh
and tell me I'm going to make myself bald

whenever I see someone crying
whether I like them or not
I always stop and listen and try to make it better
because I would want somebody to do that for me

I have a photo album full of pictures
of my favorite people
so when I'm sad I can flip through it
and their smiling faces remind me I have people I love
and that I would do anything for them

I wear a safety pin on the hem of my shirts
as a promise
to my parents and my siblings and to me
that I will never hurt myself again

I make bracelets for all my friends
an insignificant thing
but I do it because
it brings me joy to see them wear them every day

when I was younger I would stare out my window
and watch the lightning at night
and count the seconds before the thunder boomed
until I fell asleep
and sometimes I still do

Peaking through the pavement,
a little burst of yellow.
Trampled and squashed
but still there,
still beautiful.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                   Bishops Who Roared Like Lions

Your Grace:

There have been bishops who have roared like lions
But your demeanor is that of a house pet
Please rise from your couch in Caesar’s triclinium
And return to the streets to serve God’s people

She screamed to the heavens, and not a soul called back.
She was utterly alone, and she was grateful for that.

A horrible turn to have when trapped.
A feathered arrow, tied with precision and care lodged in her back.

Although pain was not something she lacked.
she thought she would die, and to her, that's a fact.

The sound of snow crunching from someone unknown.
Told her that she was no longer alone.

Her newfound companion wanted her blood.
When she saw their figures all she thought was "Crud".