seven

her

eyes flickering

from the teacher

and the project

she raves about,

i close them.

sleep and i

have not met;

not since a week.

and my body is

the victim of my pain;

my heart screams for this

to s t o p.

if i could stop hurting,

i would; but the only way

to do that would be to die.

and i want to see

what life has in store for me.

so,

sorry, my poor heart;

for all the venom that

circulates in the blood you pump.

i still want to live.

-

him

"rosemary?" i say,

as she drifts off in class.

the circles under her eyes portray

extreme fatigue and lost sleep.

she opens her eyes

and they are filled with tears,

she looks away from me.

"rose," i say. "you alright?"

"truth, or lie?"

"truth, please."

"no."

i move my chair

closer to her, and put

my arm around her. she

lays her head on my shoulder.

"how can i help?"

i keep my eyes on the

teacher, but my attention

on the girl in my arms.

"you can't," she sighs.

"is that a challenge?"

"no, south."

"challenge accepted,"

i squeeze her shoulder.

i, south lee, vow

to help this girl

taste happiness

once again.

"you free tonight?" i ask.

"not for you."

"i'm picking you up

at exactly 6. we're going out."

"i said i was busy."

"no, you didn't."

she huffs, snuggles her

head on my shoulder.

"don't be late, camera boy."