<small>Stop and use this page as a prompt if you wish, or continue on from here. Or you could [[a mind to meander|go back to where the river begins]].</small> ---- I want to be like Batman, he seems to always have a plan—I don’t even have a pla- Batman always has people to turn to, mine only churn and fade I just want one friend. But when I glance over at them, all I see is their shiny hair, and the back of a shirt I swear I bought last summer —it seemed to disappear so fast I bet Superman hasn’t stolen from Batman But Batman has friends so that couldn’t be me That’s where it ends. I wish I was Batman with a batmobile because he’s cool Cool enough to get me out of the whirlpool from the smell of icy hot. I can almost smell it-nostalgia rushing back in the worst way. Just like the cursed smell at a hospital I should know, l’ve been there 1000 times. Waiting, wishing a door would open to the Batcave just to feel at ease then maybe the wave would leave. I’d feel relieved. No more pain, no more doctor visits, no more icy hot. Batman heals fast but I squeal like a cat chasing a mouse from the pain. Suddenly my eyes get blurry. The pain scurries through my body, leaving me in a panic [[why rain is my favorite|Why can’t anyone see the rain]]— The rain pouring from my bulged eyes, or the rain around me that only drowns me I bet Batman doesn’t cry over the small things I cry about. I just want to be okay Sticking your arm out of the window when you were a kid only to feel the breeze, the smell, the feel—but it’s all a memory I can’t hold Please. Please. Why can’t this be me. The Batmobile, flying by just like my hair when the windows were rolled down, even though my hair would always get tangled; I had no care I’ve never felt so free I want to feel that breeze when I’m Batman with the key to my Batmobile. <br> – *Mallie Loomis*