I Smile And Play Pretend Through The

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

I Want To Tell Him That It's Just A Stupid Car, But Bits Of Me Are Scattered All Over Town; The Graveyard, School, Cassie's Room, The Motel, And Standing In From Of The Sink In My Mother's Kitchen. It Takes Too Much Energy To Gather All The Bits Together, So I Just Sit There And Watch Him Implode.

Didn't Help To Ponder Things That Were Forever Gone. It Only Made A Body Restless And Fill Up With Bees, All Wanting To Sting Something.

I Stand In The Center Aisle Of The Auditorium, A Wounded Zebra In A National Geographic Special, Looking For Someone, Anyone To Sit Next To. A Predator Approaches: Gray Jock Buzz Cut, Whistle Around A Neck Thicker Than His Head. Probably A Social Studies Teacher, Hired To Coach A Blood Sport.

I Reach For Funny Books All The Time To Help Me Get Through Life.