Lunge
Slide
Join

I lunge towards those red and gold--
The corpses of those leaves so old
As I lunge, my pink shoe peeks
Playing peek-a-boo with spiky green.

I slide and pull those sticky leaves
Off the mattress of spiky green
Crunching, crackling towards me
Still I glide ‘till a pile I see.

They join together; for I am told:
For as boy meets girl; red meets gold.
Swish-tish, swish-tish – ah, that sound!
Surely soon, will they all become one.

Twenty-three year old Johnny Gage whistled to himself as he headed for his locker in the Lockeroom to change into his uniform.

The young Paramedic opened his locker, only to be met by a spray of water over his face and once dry clothed.

"KELLY!" He bellowed in annoyance, knowing only too well that the 'Phantom' had gotten into his locker. He pulled out his uniform shirt, taking his brown short sleeved shirt off and changing into it.

Just as he was buttoning his shirt, Chet Kelly, the culprit of the water bomb in John's locker walked in, looking only too innocent.

I. Just a Girl
Get back over here
Don’t talk to her, talk to me
I don’t like the haughty way
She held her head when she
Told you to come closer
I don’t like her
Heavy red lipstick
I don’t like the way
She reached out and
Hugged your shoulders
I don’t like
Her
Flirting with you.

Rebound
You always seemed to be the rebound type, 
Always thought you'd bounce back quickly.
You would think two months is long enough, 
That you'd be over me, 
But I guess I'm not over you,
So touché, 
It's just you always seemed to be the rebound type, 
I guess not, 
Because we're not friends, 
So far as I know you haven't bounced back, 
And you're probably playing video games, 
On the couch,
On your own. 

There's perfect, there's normal, and then there's me.
Listen closely and I'll tell you what I mean:
Perfect wears a dress sized two,
Her little foot wears a seven shoe.
Perfect nose and perfect smile,
Eyes made to win and beguile.
Perfect body and perfect face,
Perfect hair, always in place.
Now normal tells a rather sad tale,
In perfectness does surely fail.
Messy bun and camo flip-flops,
Red plaid pajama bottoms and a pink tank-top.
Neon-green nails, painted weeks ago,
Too much makeup, putting on a show.

Second Meeting

I am a terrible person. If I said that out loud, I would be met with scores of replies from friends who think I am just having a bad day, or being just a little insecure. But I can trust you guys to take me at my word - I am a bad person. Not in an "everyone's a sinner" kind of way, but in a truly horrible "I hurt the people around me" kind of way. The part of me that still feels like I must always tell the truth shudders a little when truth or dare comes around, and I thank my lucky stars that everybody knows me as more of a "dare" kind of gal.

I can smell the liquor on his breath

See the trouble in his eyes

The gangs he hangs out with

The beanie covering his hair

He’s only twelve.

Skater shoes not done all the way up

Loose pants, too big, hang down on the floor

Itching hands down by his sides

Coarse words are shouted from his lips to gain attention

He’s only twelve.

I give him a wave

He gets excited by my smile alone

Because now he knows

That somebody cares.

He’s only twelve.

Advice in Memories
Memories brought back to life, 
Told with a grin on my face and an ache in my heart, 
Something tells me I shouldn't be enjoying this, 
Shouldn't find pleasure in bringing back these memories. 
Good times, 
Bad times, 
I remember it all so clear. 
Telling it in a jumbled mess, 
It's hard to explain feelings that I couldn't contain at the time, 
Hard to believe I felt that way about you, 
Hard to believe I can feel that way about somebody else. 
I try to shed light into the details, 

At home, I tried to read the Bible from Jerome, hoping to make sense of something, but after a few sentences I always threw it aside and paced my room. When it got dark I bundled up and went to Central Park to get lost in the crowd. I lost track of time and it was past midnight before I left to go home.
I forgot I had to pass the café on my way back, but when I came to it I felt the urge not to ignore it but think there. I leaned up against the lamp post out front and stood looking in the window.