Confessional by New Members Poems

I often wonder whether I am failing myself but then I remember the girl I once was the one who was always the third wheel who carefully planned out and calculated her words only to be talked over when she finally spoke the one who was bullied by her first grade teacher who hated her looks and despised her body
who stared blankly into space until her mind was elsewhere the one who was called useless after trying her best throwing kindness like confetti at people who couldn't care less what would be the look on her face if she found out that I am working at a summer camp as happy as could...

I often wonder whether I am failing myself but then I remember the girl I once was the one who was always the third wheel who carefully planned out and calculated her words only to be talked over when she finally spoke the one who was bullied by her first grade teacher who hated her looks and despised her body
who stared blankly into space until her mind was elsewhere the one who was called useless after trying her best throwing kindness like confetti at people who couldn't care less what would be the look on her face if she found out that I am working at a summer camp as happy as could...

First, there was a leaf
And it sailed on a stream
Sailed far away, as a paper boat
Floating in my dreams
As strangers by the sidewalk
Drifting away, and astray

There is no way
You and I, hear each other
With these silent poems, unsent letters
Flowers with no scent
Turns to be fire
And there goes her bloom into the boom

And the bus is burning
With her feet spread on the seat
In the front, as flames expire on her skin
With smears of oil and coal
And a noose tighten on her throat
With beads of sweat...

First, there was a leaf
And it sailed on a stream
Sailed far away, as a paper boat
Floating in my dreams
As strangers by the sidewalk
Drifting away, and astray

There is no way
You and I, hear each other
With these silent poems, unsent letters
Flowers with no scent
Turns to be fire
And there goes her bloom into the boom

And the bus is burning
With her feet spread on the seat
In the front, as flames expire on her skin
With smears of oil and coal
And a noose tighten on her throat
With beads of sweat...

First, there was a leaf
And it sailed on a stream
Sailed far away, as a paper boat
Floating in my dreams
As strangers by the sidewalk
Drifting away, and astray

There is no way
You and I, hear each other
With these silent poems, unsent letters
Flowers with no scent
Turns to be fire
And there goes her bloom into the boom

And the bus is burning
With her feet spread on the seat
In the front, as flames expire on her skin
With smears of oil and coal
And a noose tighten on her throat
With beads of sweat...