The cracks
continue to get larger
and more abundant
By the time it
shatters
will it be
empty
or
will it explode,
spilling everywhere
with still no
hope
of going back

Harsh lights
Blinding
a small, sharp pain
suddenly
relief
But not for long

darkness
silence
only breathing
Then
The noise:
An email.
It is 1:00 AM

Branches

Frozen, bony fingers
Reaching,
Scraping,
Never quite grasping
anything
at all

Falling.
Slowly.
Now falling faster
Covering the sorrows of yesterday,
but also
hiding
the joys
of the past

Many layers
of silk,
twirling.
Joy
in the air
All else
forgotten
for just
a single moment.

Tears

Thin, wet
trails
leave barely
visible
marks
On cold,
dry skin.

Snow

Silent
in the night air
But not so
under feet.

Life and love

Marry for money
They say
And your life is
Good.
But what good is life
Without something
to work for.
Work for love
They say.
But what is life
if love is not
first.

Memories of a Notebook

I remember using this notebook last year. It was my Biology lab notebook. I never thought I'd say that I miss it...but I kind of do. I don't miss the work-it was difficult most of the time, and sometimes I wonder how I passed the class...but the atmosphere...yes, I miss that. I miss Mrs. Blanchard somehow making the material seem interesting and the many times she would get sidetracked by the class-especially Areli. Like that time when she told everyone in the room what kind of car she thought they'd be driving in the future. To me, she said I would be driving a Lexus. And be married to a rich doctor. I really have no idea what car I'll be driving. Probably not a Lexus. Married to a rich doctor? A medical doctor? No, thank you. I would find that really weird. And I'm not marrying someone just because they're rich. That's dumb. But hey, if Justin somehow ends up getting his doctorate degree, then she could very well have successfully predicted at least part of my future. (Can you get a doctorate for Engineering? (is that was a Ph.D. is, or is that something different?) Haha wow...I really don't know very much...)
I remember doing a seed-counting lab with Justin as my lab partner and being so careful to try to make sure I didn't touch his hands while handing him the seeds. I wonder if I would do that now....It's very likely; distractions have no place in science.
Oh, and the time Mrs. Blanchard told us that people who are attracted to each other generally will have the same size lips and their eyes will be about the same distance apart. Because science. After that, Areli took some time to stare at us, trying to figure out if the theory working in our case. Does it? I don't know, but that would be based on physical/aesthetic attraction....and it's so much more than that for me. It started with Star Wars and physics. But that's a story for a different time.

Icicles

Like frozen daggers
They hang
Dripping in their own blood

Icicles

Icicles. I knew they were there, but hadn't thought about them until Maria said something. And even then, I only glanced quickly to notice them again. But upon returning to my room after dinner, I stopped to appreciate them. I even snapped a picture. They are a beautiful thing, yet they are cold and potentially dangerous. Icy water drips like blood from the tip of a cruel dagger.

Waffles

When we eat waffles at home, my dad always makes them. There is a waffle iron here in the dining hall always available for use. I used it only once, last September or maybe October. It has a loud "beep" to signal that the waffle you are trying to make yourself is finished cooking-though that is not always the case...they often get stuck to the top half of the waffle iron. I do enjoy eating waffles, so you may wonder why I never eat them here. After all, having something that I enjoy for a meal would give me something nice for a bit, would it not? perhaps, but waffles are special. they are a family thing, and so eating them here seems wrong. so I don't, that way I have another thing to look forward to when I go home. Also, the syrup here is the artificial kind-which I acutllay used to like better than real maple syrup, but now I miss the real stuff. At home, we always have pure maple syrup because that's what my dad loves. My sister and I used to wish we had the artificial syrup, but now I am perfectly happy with what we get.
(Thanks to my best friend for the inspiration for this)

My writing plan

The best times for me to write are probably in the morning when I wake up and before I go to bed. This is when I have the most time to do it without worrying about much else. Each time will be about 15-20 minutes. The exact time I write may vary depending on my schedule. The majority of the writing will probably happen in my dorm room on my bed, though if I am other places around the time I should write and get inspiration, I will do it there instead. Tools: Pen (most likely black), lined paper, bed, blanket, lights/open window. To avoid distractions, I will set aside my computer and make sure there is the least amount of noise possible. If the situation calls for it, I will find music to help me concentrate, though not usually since I am generally distracted from writing when I listen to music.