This goes to you, Bozo, Because I thank you.

I thank you for being the friend of mine, The one who never tries to take my spot,

Who never manipulates me,

Who makes me feel better than worse,

For giving me advice and letting me give you advice.

To Bozo, Thank you.

You will never understand how much you mean to me.

You were the beacon in my room of darkness, The rope pulling me back from the drowning sea, The shades who shielded me from the blazing sun, The glasses who let me see the calming moon.

And, yes. I know.

I know I’m just one of your friends. Just another person to you.

But please know you mean so much to me.

And it doesn’t matter if I mean that much to you.

But,

For now,

Bozo,

Thank you.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, Oh where can I buy your goods? Magical, Medicine Traveler, In the mountains, desert or woods?

Magical, Medicine Traveler, Please do tell me where you are. Magical, Medicine Traveler, I pray at night it’s not too far.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, They said you were real. Magical, Medicine Traveler, It is worry I most feel.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I’ve scoured every island, every place, Magical, Medicine Traveler, How I long to see your face.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I need you, I need you now. Magical, Medicine Traveler, Just tell me where art thou?

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I’m getting tired. Show yourself. Magical, Medicine Traveler. I’m quickly losing my health.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I’ve given up all hope, I threw. Magical, Medicine Traveler, I really, really hate you.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I hate you for not being here. Magical, Medicine Traveler, I hate you for never being near.

Magical, Medicine Traveler, I hate you for letting me cry those nights alone. Magical, Medicine Traveler, You were never real, skin to bone.

It’s been at least two or three days since that lamp in front of my house has started flickering. It’s been at least two or three days since I’ve lost my mind.

Usually, something like this doesn’t bother me. At least, not as much as others. Unfortunately for me, the window in which I look to for inspiration is positioned riiiiiiight in front of the lamp.

I think I’ve named it, by this time. A Pain In My Butt.

..

Okay, look. I just wanted to write my little story and relax in the evening, but the lamp flickered so randomly, so- It was annoying!

After harshly closing my laptop, I picked up my phone and punched the numbers 6,7,3… Then stopped. I had no idea what number I was punching in.

I looked back outside once more, squinting at the lamp. Why was it blinking anyways? I thought the city would’ve fixed it if it’s been flickering this long.

And then it clicked.

Could it have been Morse code?

:time:

It’s been a few more days, and no longer have I worked on my project. I spent all the time learning Morse code. So far, the lights blinking translated to something. It said,

LOOK AT ME. WINDOW.

And so I tried to look out the window. What was this lamp saying? Who was trying to-

A girl waved at me from the other side, the house opposing mine. She smiled, as if waiting for this.

UR CUTE.

I shut the blinds tightly and jumped in my bed, covering myself with a blanket.

Not very manly of me, but I started laughing into the pillow. Like. A giggle.

After composing myself, I stood up and opened the blinds, and the window.

“Thank you!” I yelled out, feeling my face heat up as she smiled. Oh gosh. Her smile looked so bright.

I think she glowed way too much. Brighter than the lamp.

Then she opened her window and I knew I was doomed.

“What’s your number!” Said mystery girl.

“What’s your name first!” I yelled back.

She just… smirked. Why did she smirk? What?

“You can just call me mine. Or call me anytime.”

…

Next thing I knew, I was shouting out my number.

“Father! Father! I’m flying!” Icarus exclaimed in glee. His Father’s invention had worked!

He was flying!

As he soared higher, the blond boy felt the air breeze over his pale skin. It felt heavenly! It felt as if he hadn’t a care in the world!

He whooped with joy and arched his body, sending his figure into a soumersalt.

Truly, this had to be the best feeling!

“Icarus, my son,” Daedalus began, his tone taking one of warning, “Don’t go too close to the sun!”

Icarus laughed gleefully and dipped, hovering right above the water. He stretched out his hand and leaned to the left, water running over his left arm.

He saw the fish leap out of the water and couldn’t help but feel some connection as he flew with them.

“Icarus!” Daedalus laughed deeply, soaring somewhere in the middle of the horizon, “Didn’t I say not to close to the water, boy?”

Salty ocean breeze sprinkled on the young boy’s face. He laughed as if every tiny thing ever seen was gold; it sure felt like it.

He was out of the prison! He was free! He felt as if nothing could stop him now! Not even the power of almighty Zeus who refused to listen to his prayers. Not even Poseidon, ruler the seas, who turned a blind eye to their calls!

The world was up for grabs, and Icarus took it with his hands.

With feeling, he tried to do a loop, grinning ear-to-ear as he did. The air blew his hair back, and the sun kissed his skin. A feeling of elation shot through his body, seeming to rejuvenate it as he flew side to side. His laughter echoched throughout the whole sea.

King Minos has nothing on him.

But that feeling was outlived as Icarus soared higher, and higher, and higher, slowly getting closer and closer to the sun.

“Icarus!” His father’s voice sounded distant. Was he too near? Hah! Nonsense!

“I’m fine, fath-“ he felt something drip. Something hot.

Like wax.

fault is such a fickle little word, it can mean anything.

was it my fault?

who’s was it?

how is the blame so easy to pin, yet so difficult to accept?

was it my fault?

my mind says yes, but my heart says no. both are each wrong in their individual ways.

i want an answer.

but i fear the reply.

and so, these questions, they stay in my heart.

they wait to be sung out,

a beautiful phrase, a chord,

to be absorbed into someone’s open ear.

it’s difficult to think of such things.

and yet i do.

As the school year ends, us students have our free time

Back, a time where we

Can sharpen our minds and put our creativity to the test, play in the

Dangerous spots, swim in the hot summer h-

Eat, and do whatever, or just stay alone if you pre-

Fer that; many kids have different wants, but you do whatever’s

Good for you, we don’t care, I sure know

I don’t, so sit and your room and tell yourself sorry

Jokes about sadness and insanity, turn your

KISS records up, be as

Loud as possible, don’t bother annoying

Mom or dad, they lost their ears; do whatever you

Need to keep you from being an

Optimist, keep being pessimistic,

Play the bass, the guitar, play with your

Qwerty keys and smash them for an added effect,

Relish the sound of

Silence, keep it that way, be alone and

Tired of it, who cares if yo-

Ur friends are busy? Check yourself in the mirror, be

Vain, narcissistic, admire yourself and ignore the emptiness and embrace the absence of

Warmth, bottle the

Xenacious feeling for people, and isolate

Yourself, be whiny about it, but don’t be over-

Zealous. It’s just the summer break.

Sometimes I wonder, How long will it take for them to stop?

For them to stop giving me attention? For them to turn away and make snide comments? For them to stop showing me any traces of human affection?

And I know, I know, trust me, That this isn’t good to think of.

Yet the thought won’t escape me.

She’s my friend, But I wonder how long would it take, I wonder when the word would be used no longer.

He’s my… Not a friend, But just a guy, A guy I know.

And I wonder, How long that guy I know, Will turn into “that stranger I don’t”?

Though he’s not my friend, He treats me like one.

But the thoughts are telling me, “I wonder when he’d stop.”

I wonder when will the world finally turn against me, Just like everyone does.

Leave me to rot, Leave me to die, Leave me to wonder why didn’t I try.

Try harder to maintain that… That friendship.

That feeling. A “sense of belonging.”

No.__ __ __ I shouldn’t think like this. __ It’s not my fault. __ And this is unfair to me. __ So I wonder. __ Wonder when I’ll stop. __ When I’ll be okay. __ __ And better.

Car rides on a hot day can make me nauseous.

They make me feel like I want to throw up.

Like I want to cry.

Make me feel horrible.

And secretly angry at myself. For not preventing the nausea. By finding a way to chill.

Car rides make me wonder why some reactions to the things I do are so strong.

Car rides make me sad.

To: Car rides From: Soph

:)

as the rain falls i cant help but think about how the sadness calls to me. im on the brink.

the tears tug at my eyes and the sorrow brings down my mouth i swat the feelings like flies as things begin to go south.

i haven't done half of my work, and the day is soon gone guilt laughs at me, curt my day is chucked at the lawn

i woke up late today, i took a little too long to break i had too much time to lay my body begins to shake

the paper is filled with many words they blur in my mind i cant yell much about how absurd im not being kind

others handle it easy so i wonder why cant i i guess im just too lazy ill never be that guy

it sucks to just write even though it makes me happy ive chewed more than i can bite my words begin to look slappy

i need to work. faster, more, better, whatever. eyes begin to lurk ill rest never

It’s better to to tell me, To give me your glasses and let me see.

It’s better to stop hiding, To not leave me blind, crying.

Please turn on a light, Let it creep through the darkness, make it right.

Black is more blinding, Than any lie you’ve ever told, still binding.

I know you’re scared, But it’s okay, I’ve come prepared.

I’ve thought, and thought, and thought it through: Making me wonder’s just leaving me blue.

I don’t care how many more tears I could shed, Lies hurt more than the truth that you’ve fled.

There’s no easy way to say it, I know. But when you don’t tell me, you’re burying me 6ft under a bunch of snow.

So tell me, tell me all that you’ve thought, And let me be the judge myself if that is what I sought.

What I sought to know, rather than guess, Because all you’re doing right now is just making a mess.

It’s better to tell me, please. Just let me know the truth; At least.

. . .

I have now heard you, Heard so loud and clear,

That I now know, now realize, It wasn’t the truth,

But you I feared.