Sitting on my grandfather's chair. He is dead. The air smells faintly of death and my grandfather's cologne which is made of memories and sweat (his and others'). Thinking of my grandfather makes me want to sink back to yesteryear when he was alive and well. But alas, he is dead.
flowers, bees, turtles, trees. what do they have in common? they all die.
I'm planning a party for all the land. It shall be grand. My guest list is three: I, myself, and me. Who will fire up the ovens? Who will bake the cakes? Who will set the table? Who will break the plates? Me will fire up the ovens. I will bake the cakes. Myself will set the table and we all will break the plates. My cats are honorary humans at the table of dismay where me, myself, and I will dine on this joyous day.
nobody understands me. they call me emo because I wear all black. but i wear all black because I am mourning my youth. I remember the day I lost my innocence. There were fireworks, but today i see that they were really rockets blasting into my world, destroying all in their path.
I dream of bieng a butterfly but will remain forever a cancer patient. Here I lie dying of chemo and with an IV constantly giving me radiation. My hair is falling out and I look pail but that is probably from not going outside. Ohh what I would do to have a halthy body. Nobody understands me because they don't know what it's like to have terminal chemo due to cancer of the brayn. What's a lonely dying kid to do? make-a-wish foundation please help me achieve my dream of not having chemo.