She said her heart was like a hourglass and it was running out of sand. I told her my cupped hands might help but she pushed them away. She said everyone knows sand can slip through the spaces between your fingers. I promised her I would try my hardest and squeezed my fingers together so tightly. She said I shouldn’t be so stupid, it would never be good enough. I knew she was right about the last part. My help would never be good enough for her.
My lips are painted dark red and my nails
are painted bright blue. It’s all bizarre to you.
You think I’m looking for attention with my
hot pink hair. But I’m not. I don’t care that
people stare at me on the streets or judge
me for me not fitting in with the norm.
I just want to be remembered.