Part 1: Bus

The bus

In the back, swaying and bumping over roads

Paved with cracked tar


Playing games with reality

The mood

is happy

even euphoric

Two friends

Maybe more

Lock eyes

Sudden nervousness.



Waiting for what?

Something they both know

Something they both know but something that neither says

Until now

“Who loves who?”

The names of random classmates, together in fantasy

Until the moment comes

He looks her in the eye

“And I,” he pauses.

“Like you.”

She is shocked

But she smiles and says

“I like you back”


A love of children

But it will last


Part 2: Sapphirestar

Her heart is broken.

She doesn’t know what’s happening

And she doesn’t like it.

Always friends, but maybe their relationship is cracked

She’s angry

And unhappy

And regretful.

Maybe it’s her fault

Maybe it’s his

She doesn’t know anything anymore

She’s in tears

Crying the blood of her heart out on the blacktop

He’s in pain

She is in no state to help him

Later she will regret it.

She feels like she will never be happy again

He’s talking to her

Ignoring himself

Making light of his pain

In order to comfort her.

She starts to smile

Despite herself.

Nobody but him could do that to her.

He makes her happy when she sees him

She would die for him

She realizes it when he smiles.

She loves him.

He loves her.

She makes it her mission to never let him down.

She knows she’ll falter.

But she knows she’ll try.


Part 3: Dare

Her friend

They’re laughing together.

She is dared

To do something

That she needs an excuse to do.

“Do it within my earshot.”


She is nervous

But happy at the same time.

She approaches him

Her heart flutters like a finch

Trapped in the prison of her chest.

She blushes.

“I need to talk to you.”



They leave behind the clutter of the schoolyard

They leave to be alone

In the shade of a dying oak.

But it is still alive.

“I love you”

She says.

He smiles.

He shifts on the faded grass

She thought she saw him blush


He says

His face is red

He is smiling

So is she

She doesn’t know what “Ditto” means

But she will

And his eyes tell her the true meaning

Of what he says


Part 4: Floodlights

It is cold

Wind whips their bare faces

They forgot to bring scarves.

The sun is setting

A cold fire on the unmelting snow

As the clouds dance their slow waltz across the flickering dusk

Stars are blinking into being

One by one

Above their heads

They are alone for the moment

Free from people

Free from lies

The lies they’ve told all their lives.

They slide and stagger on the tight-packed snowflakes

Laughing and trying not to fall

They lift off from the ground

Free from gravity

Free from others

They reach the top

Silver floodlights flicker on around them and bathe them in brightness

They race

down the hill, laughing in the stream of air they’re flying into

He falls

She stops and makes her clumsy way towards him

They’re holding hands

She pulls him to his feet

“I have something to tell you,” she says


He is expecting something

“I could say it first” he says, knowing what she is thinking.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Really?” Her eyes are wide, reflecting the floodlights



Part 5: Firewall

It is the next year

She is looking forward to seeing his smile again

She’s missed him like he is a part of her heart

Maybe he is.

She spots him in a crowd

She waves

He doesn’t see her.

This happens every day

He vanishes and she cannot find him

She cries herself to sleep at night

She writes him a note.

More like a letter.

Her friend has the locker next to him

The girl hands him her note

He never replies

It is difficult to know his feelings

She is kept in limbo

Never knowing what he is thinking

But always wanting to know

He has his firewall

Hard to breach

But she will try

She watches him from under her lashes

Never with the courage to talk to him

She wonders

Where did it go?

Does he feel the same about her

As she does about him?

Every night she reads the notes he sent her

When they were young

And innocent

And she knows

One day

She will break his firewall


Part 6: Night

She’s awake

She shouldn’t be

Glancing furtively around her

Her face is lit by a machine

She wants to talk to someone

But nobody is there

She hears a sound.

She’s not the only one awake.


She reads the message.

It is simple and short

But she smiles like she has won the world.

It’s you

She writes.

They talk

He shows nothing

Until later at night

They are pouring their feelings out

They have no other outlet.

Nobody else understands.

But he does.

So much she never knew

She wishes she could be with him now

Now she knows how much he has gone through

How much she never knew

She has passed the firewall

They are talking

Maybe I love you because you understand me

She says from her heart.

I can’t help but love you

The reply arrives with a soft ding.

She falls asleep

Maybe he is still awake.

All alone, waiting for someone in the dark.


Part 7: Poetry and Loathing

She is back on her computer

Her virtual escape from the tortures of real life

He is there too

It is late at night and they’re talking

She finds it easy to talk to someone who is not there

Easier than to talk to someone who is.

Hello there I don’t believe we’ve met before

She is surprised.

They know each other.

Who are you?

My name’s Loathing and yours

She is confused- what is this?

Loathing: A feeling of intense dislike or disgust; hatred

That’s what I call myself

She’s about to cry.

Now she knows what he’s been dealing with for so long

The voices and the vividness

The stories and the racing mind

Always racing

Always busy

Never still

She writes from the heart

Fierce poetry

Almost unconscious

Trying to combat the Loathing

Trying to draw him from the abyss he has been near for years

Using her spirit; she is the poetry

Teeth gritted

Eyes shimmering with tears

Writing to save a life

She knows

If he were hurt he would only need to ask and she would take the pain without hesitation

He is unhappy and she keeps it in her mind, dampening her outward happiness with his emotions

She fights loathing with poetry

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