Thinking of a friend with a heartache, I decided to post this

This poem is dated May 4, 2003. That would have made me fourteen years old, but heartache hurts no matter what age you are. I really enjoy my writing from this time.

Make it go away

Make it hide in the dust of the stairwell

Away from me, away from them,

The ones who care.

Who can love if it is only a word?

An idea, like the colors of sound,

Pulling at imagination and want.

That which is irresistible, but a wild stab

In your heart:

A beautiful fluttering of butterflies around me,

While locusts swarm in to destroy the golden wheat.