Poetic blast from the past

I have absolutely NOTHING interesting to post, so I'm going to post some poetry I wrote in 9th grade. Yes, I used to write poetry. All the time. Multiple times a day. Every day. I was a little bit freaky in my younger days. There's nothing wrong with poetry, but I was one of those weird kids who always felt so much and just had to get it out by writing. I only wrote in black pen and I wore mostly black shirts. Yeah.

I'm going out on a limb (my left arm, to be specific) by publishing this. I've never done this before. Here we go!

-------------------------------------------

Static

The headphones cling
like shining leeches
to his sweat-slicked ears.
The static hisses--

heavy,
faithful

--and he sulks
beneath his black
noisemaker god.
There is a glare in his
monster-green eyes and the

hisssssssss

is creeping over his tongue.

He jumps
at a

pause

in the music and
with a
snap
breaks his own
stiffened neck.