MPitS - Willits High School

MPitS

Willits High School
2003/2004

August Innocence

let the warm breeze blow
my eyelids closed
tumbling through these winter months
I am glass ice gravel, now.
I am August, then.
let the ruby red grapefruit open, succulent.
I am August, then.
unknowing of the pale painful face of September
green eyes and dark hair caressing her shoulders
cut off.
I am September, then.
tantalizing fingertips and lips
halogen light bright white smiles
transform into souvenirs of a Sunday.
they leave me lonely, later.
longing for the comfort of black and white
I am August then, when I was able to discern
I am August, then.
I am September when my paint pallette trips
and black drips into white they mix and become grey.
I am September when indecision looms overhead in
clouds
torture me
constantly with cattle prod letters smashed together
leave me be.
I am not who is thought or what is believed
I am August then, when I know September as a dream.
let me bask in the warm glow of sunlight
send my shoulders tingling tan
I am August then, when I radiate those golden tones
I am August, then.
Ignorant to the hidden turmoil locked deep inside
October's slender, slender
Broken legs.
all that is beautiful is broken, October tells me.
I am October then, when I run to flee the ruins of
September.
but the past is always behind me
and the finish line always a step ahead
I am August then, when I knew the time to draw the
line
I am August, then.
I am October when beauty is broken
emaciated is beauty
fuel is the enemy
I can't just take care of me
I can't. I can't. I can't.
Echo.
I can't. I can't. I can't.
So I just keep running running running
through excruciatingg pain because I can
fuel is the enemy
I can't just take care of me
leave me be.
I am not who is thought or what is believed
I am August then, when I know October as a dream.
let me slip on my shades, close my blue eyes
stretch out my legs by the rocky riverside
I am August then, when time?
is irrelevant.
and those sideways grins
are genuine.
I am August, then.
I am November, then when I am a plastic faced Barbie
doll smiling mask for the masses.
I am not me, in November.
the superlative oh so sweet sixteen.
happy birthday, darling!
thirteen plus three.
I am November then, when I am not me
she cries and she's crazy.
insufficient crooked she fractured, herself.
she cries and she's crazy
leave me be.
I am not who is thought or what is believed
I am August then, when I know November as a dream.
let me breathe in the warm scent of summer, lofting
through my open window
classical guitar fills my ears
days are longer
sunshine brighter
night a little less black
I remember August, now.
I am almost August, now.
I am August, then when this is not a dream
August is approaching.

Sarah Hughes
11th grade, Willits High School

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