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Contributor: Alexis K

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I heard Heather’s broken voice from across the room
And I stood in front of her trying not to cry
Her nails claw at one another, nails painted
The color of blood as from a recent kill
Waiting for the clock to strike three,
Her hands gripping the bag she picked up,
About to leave,
While ignoring the casualty on the way out
No one in the quiet room understood
How she could have thrown away their friendship, so quickly
Like a carcass pulpy and horrible

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Alexis goes to Pompton Lakes High school and loves to write in her free time.


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