Static

if humans were measured with amperes,

you’d be a live wire,

humming with life,

burning fervently;

as if electricity courses through your veins

and bleeds from your heart;

you are a palpitation,

you are very much alive.

i wish i was more like you.

you and i,

we were parallel opposites,

but we were a series circuit,

two resistors burning with shared ferocity,

two people living with shared trust,

holding and looking out for each other,

you always had my back

and i had yours;

there was no me without you.

but just like how electric currents short-circuit,

our friendship was short-lived.

and now all that’s left between us 

is static silence.

but i need to understand,

how were two strangers once best friends?

when did all our trust wear thin? 

if we weren’t meant to be friends,

why’d we ever begin? 

What Are We Again?

things i have to say to you:

1. why didn’t you tell me about her?
2. i thought we were best friends
3. don’t best friends tell each other everything?
4. but you do have a right not to tell me though
5. although i wished you had.
6. maybe we weren’t best friends then.
7. or maybe i wasn’t your best friend.
8. you’re my best friend.
9. i’m not mad at you
10. just a bit let down
11. because you’re the first person i tell about anything
12. good or bad. 
13. i tell you things i’d never tell anyone else
14. because i trust you
15. and for a while 
16. i thought you trusted me too.
17. guess not.
18. and maybe 
19. maybe you trust them more
20. that’s okay.
21. you’re still my person even if i’m not yours
22. why didn't you tell me?
23. i told you everything.
24. i’m not mad
25. i’m heartbroken,
26. not because you didn’t tell me about her
27. god i could care less.
28. i’m heartbroken because you were hurting
29. and i didn’t even notice
30. didn’t even know
31. couldn’t even be there for you
32. do you know how horrible i feel?
33. because even if i’m not your best friend
34. you’re mine,
35. and i want to be there for you
36. no matter what.
37. because isn’t that what best friends are for?
38.  unless
39. we aren’t best friends.

Ever After (or alternatively, You Told Me.)

you told me

that my eyes

were orbs of kindness;

always imploring.

and yet when i begged

you to stay;

you didn’t.

you told me

that my lips

tasted like cherry wine;

sweet and addictive.

and yet when you left,

somehow,

the addiction broke.

you told me

that my voice

was like liquid gold;

soft and slender.

and yet you didn't care

that when you left,

it would shatter.

you told me

that my skin

tingled with electricity;

jolted you alive with every touch.

and yet when you left,

that electricity

burned out.

you told me

that i kissed

like the world 

was about to end.

and yet you didn't care;

that my world would end

when you left.

you told me

that my heart

was bold and strong; 

like titanium.

and yet when you left,

that titanium

collapsed.

you told me

we would be together forever,

our own happily ever after.

and yet you didn't tell me

that you were lying;

because you turned out to be

my complete destruction. 

Some Lights Are Too Bright To Last

when I first met you,
you were a bright yellow.
it streaked your cheeks
and shone from your face;
you were
happy,
undoubtedly.

two months and eighteen days later,
you were red.
the kind of red that hurt,
blistering and intense;
you were
angry,
simply put.

a year after I first met you,
you were a dark blue.
the colour of the sea during a storm,
the kind of blue that made you cry;
you were
sad,
undoubtedly.

eight months later,
you were black.
and I watched as it consumed you,
as it turned you into a hollow void of nothingness;
you were
depressed,
simply put.

on the day that you died,
there was no colour,
only the pale shade of your skin
penetrated by the bullet
from the gun that you used
to take your own life
in front of my very eyes.

and that was when I realised,
you were not colour at all.
you were a spectrum,
but the world would never come to comprehend
the light that burned inside of you;
and so when it burned out,
you burned with it.

More Often Than Sometimes

I didn't tell my mother that I loved her.
Not today.
Not yesterday.
Not the day before.

When?

More often than sometimes,
we take everyone for granted
like their presence in our lives
will always remain as constant as the sun.
they don't;
there will be rainy days.

More often than sometimes,
we feel like people take us for granted
like our presence in their lives
are like grains of sand in the Sahara Desert.
but
without those grains of sand,
would it be the Sahara Desert?

More often than sometimes,
we forget that we are alive
like the blood pumping in our veins
has gone stagnant.
it hasn't;
we cannot bleed ourselves dry.

More often than sometimes,
I wish I had
told my mother that I loved her
that her presence in my life was
like breaths of oxygen to my burning lungs.
I didn't;
but more often than sometimes,
I wish I had.

Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock

“You're different. And I'm different too. Different is good. But different is hard. Believe me, I know.”  

― Matthew Quick, Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock

In addition to the P-38, there are four gifts, one for each of my friends. I want to say good-bye to them properly. I want to give them each something to remember me by, to let them know I really cared about them and I'm sorry I couldn't be more than I was - that I couldn't stick around - and that what's going to happen today isn't their fault. 

Today is Leonard Peacock's birthday. It is also the day he will kill his former best friend, and then himself, with his grandfather's P-38 pistol. Maybe one day he'll believe that being different is okay, important even. But not today. 

To say that Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock is extraordinary would be an understatement. It's truly exceptional; to the point where I had to put the book down and think, oh my god. In multiple ways it is similar to The Perks of Being a Wallflower as well as Thirteen Reasons Why, which are both very good books if I do say so myself. Suffice to say, this book is hauntingly beautiful, raw, and truly heart-breaking. 

The first person narration through Leonard in the book was honest - in the best way possible. The style was blunt, and the format gave emphasis on Leonard's unbecoming state of mind. This includes the footnotes, his interpretation of people and certain situations as well as his one-worded thoughts on pages. The letters from the future were no doubt confusing and frustrating to me at the start, but they ended up leaving me in tears. 

As for the character Leonard Peacock, I knew from the get go that this kid was brilliant beyond his years. His thoughts and the way he perceives the world captivated me, moved me; that he can be so pessimistic yet hopeful in the most primal way that we know. You can tell just by his analysis on the world that this kid was exceptionally intelligent, as well as remarkably mature. He sees the world as it is, and yet he doesn't, because he doesn't want the pain to be real, so that maybe his future wouldn't be as dark as it seems. 

One of my favorite aspects of the book was the student-teacher relationship between Leonard and Herr Silverman, his Holocaust teacher. I especially love Herr Silverman's Holocaust lessons because they inspire you to think in a way that most classes do not. And then the was Walt, Leonard's neighbor whom I found charmingly authentic, one-of-a-kind. Their friendship was strange, and yet it felt unscripted, like something magical had happened purely on accident. 

And as for Herr Silverman, he is definitely one of my favorite characters yet. He knew from the moment that Leonard gave him his gift that something was wrong. He was paying attention to Leonard. He cared. That was the one thing that mattered most in the book. He cared for Leonard when no one else did. He gave Leonard the consolation he needed when he was desperately alone. That was so important, and I wish more teachers were like Herr Silverman. He is stunning in his unexpected depth that I truly loved. His character spoke of such genuine kindness I didn't think humanity was capable of providing. 

What I love most about this book was that it focuses on thought-provoking subjects that made me think really hard about the flaws in society and how everyday we wake up to do the same things over and over again without truly realizing that our lives are being wasted away. It made me sad to think that people like Leonard went around unnoticed and unloved by the world, it honestly did. The only unfavorable aspect was that the story ended rather abruptly, but I understand why it did. This book made me cry unlike any other book before. Bravo. 

Leonard Peacock's story is one that I will never forget, and I will never forget Leonard Peacock. I truly believe that this is a book that everyone must read, at least once in their lives, if only to realize that one might seem fine on the surface, only to be carrying a sadness so deep it cannot be lifted, and realize that they might just be capable of saving someone's life. 

As to anyone out there who is sad or lonely or depressed or just feeling utterly worthless, "Your life is going to get so much better. I promise you that. Just hold on as best as you can - and believe in the future." -Herr Silverman. 

FIRST THEY IGNORE YOU,

THEN THEY LAUGH AT YOU,

THEN THEY FIGHT YOU,

THEN YOU WIN.

                                     

                                           "How do you know you win?"

                                            "Because I keep fighting."  

Yours, 

Marisa