Blonde eyes To match her hair Life is mean She counts her blessings Hopes for the best

You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this

Strong hands Hold me down To the bed I say to them I have to go

My parents always say We’re proud of you I am too I got out of bed I used to get so much done

Scratchy plaid blanket Red with yellow stripes Hot and itchy underneath Claustrophobia strikes Purple and blue prisms

Restless As I lay in bed Trying to fall asleep These are my clues I might be low

Tomorrow Has not yet come It’s promises yet to be broken Tomorrow Is bigger

May sun is warm An old friend You have missed June sun Still smiles

I enjoy his company Riding shotgun Conversation No one to overhear Our inside jokes

I would never choose To eat a granola bar Or peanut butter crackers Though I eat them All of the time

Does it hurt? When you prick your finger No I do this just for fun Our fingers lose feeling

Antisocial tendencies Amplified by sickness I can people watch Yet I can’t people talk I am lonely