My Cardboard Balcony

I need to forgive myself for being human. I need to forgive myself for being stressed. I need to forgive myself for making mistakes. I need to forgive myself for being overly repetitive or inattentive or just plain overly hyperfocused on little things. I need to forgive myself for a lot of stuff. Of course, my anxiety and my guilt complex make that pretty tricky. This year, I have higher expectations for myself. Bear in mind, no one set the bar for me - I did that on my own. I decided that last year was going to be about making it through everything and putting together a finished yearbook and not royally screwing up with my English classes. Turns out, I did fairly well, and because I'm more experienced as a teacher now, and I have more students who are willing to work and doing more than what I saw last year, I'm now holding myself to a much loftier standard. It's all arbitrary. All of it. And yet, I can't seem to be satisfied. I must always do better. Always, ...

Mandated by Belinda Roddie As your government appointed wife, I'm obligated to love you.

There was an imbalance in the forces of nature tonight. The Young, Yet Wise, Wizard could sense that. She could sense that just by looking at the colors of the leaves, or listening to the zephyrs bristle the brush and the shrubs, or kneel by the water and scoop it up in her hands like melting pearls in her palms. It was supposed to be autumn tomorrow. And yet, Autumn appeared to have hidden away for good.

I Never Tried by Belinda Roddie I never tried to hurt you, but here you stand, tears descending from your weary eyes like dampened stars escaping from the blue canvas and finding home away from skies. We painted ev'ry dream together; now I see the corners fading, losing hue, the shadows collecting around the flow'rs that soaked in turpentine. Our calm debut was met with cool and solemn silence. We once thought our art epitomized our love, and years later, the arguments won't cease, not even when the neighbors from above scream for us both to stop. I make you cry and ought to choke on my bright oils and die.

"You'd sacrifice me for your stupid job?" shrieked William, his face going bright red, redder than anything I'd ever seen in my life. His girlfriend, Melissa, nodded as if she had simply predicted the weather. "Of course," she replied. "My job provides income, and healthcare, and retirement. You provide me empty pizza boxes and snoring at night. I'd absolutely pick my job over you - it's only logical."

Personal Inferno by Belinda Roddie I didn't wait for the tea to cool before I burned every angle of my tongue so when you kissed me I felt fire from your lips and Dante said, "I told you so."