She writes,
You are like sand. You're fine and beautiful when left alone and far away. But up close and on contact, you're irritating and go places you don't belong.
I reply,
You call me sand,
While you are a rock on land.
Appearing smooth and cool,
Yet up close, you're rough and cruel.
You are an unnecessary weight in my pocket.
Knowledge of this is no science of a rocket.
My body shrieks that you are too heavy and burdensome.
I ponder when the solution to this dilemma will come.
The answer now is here.
Stepping up to the ocean of which is near,
I let go, watching as you sink to a watery grave.
My brain tells me not to rescue you and behave.
Yet secretly I know,
there will always be sand to catch you in SanDiego
So if you ever think that I am gone,
You are wrong, for I will always be here to lean on.
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MimeMae's Silence
My name is Mae. I work as a mime part time in California, and I'm 16. I'll probably be talking about my relationships with friends and intimacy and my miming experiences.
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