…to hell I rise

gaviota is seagull and petirrojo is robin
and Lucia is upset for no apparent reason
glaring at me from the other side of the room
popped bubblegum and fluffy pens everywhere

remedial school isn’t nearly as lonely as I thought it was
the halls are swarming with slacking seniors desperate for credits
and those who were sucked into the school system too late for a proper transfer
and also the half-lived ghosts like me

there are two horrid crimson scars on my back
two jagged stripes that give away no secrets as to their origin
why does my head hurt all the time? There’s nothing there to hurt
can somebody please check behind my head for rocks floating around?

my phone is flooded with pictures of people I have no knowledge of
and places I haven’t graced with my presence in several months
every single one conflicts with the story that I’ve been told
but car crashes don’t usually involve pleading for the sake of posterity


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