Annika

15

Mind of a Hurricane

I see her sometimes,
Sitting in the back of the classroom, biting on her nails
Black nail lacquer chipped by the end of class
If she had even shown up at all
Feverish scribbles in a notebook
Hiding, escaping
Mind elsewhere
She's anywhere but here
The dark stains under her eyes all too much proof
I remember when there used to be a spirit in her eyes
Bright, lively, vibrant, in place of this grey
She was lovely, cheerful,
a lone sunflower in the rain
But her effervescence started to fade long ago
Days gone by, storms raged on,
She, too, began to vanish
what was her name?
I think it was Summer.
But as summer does, her petals wilted
stem withered
a victim of life's cold hands
gripped onto her soul,
her spirit.