Sep 15

The Sky, It's Burning

Sep 13

Looking Back

I needed to shadow someone,
someone for Junior Seminar,
for a career I was interested in.

I chose my English teacher,
the one that had taught me
to love the langauge.

I went through 
three classes I'd never had
until I got to one I did.

Honors English.
Kids I'd never known 
going through what I had last year.

Now I'm teaching them
how to write an SAQ 
for the AP World Exam.

My heart hurts.
I went through this.
Now they are.

I feel so bad,
but now I'm farther ahead than they are.
I'm in APUSH and AP Lang.

Advanced classes are terrible
but I'm glad I was able to help
kids I don't know,
going through things I did.
Sep 13

I Think A Girl's In Love With Me

it started with my friend telling me,
"hey, this girl wants to talk to you,
can i give her your snapchat?
she thinks you're cool."

of course i said yes,
i was flattered.
someone calling me cool?
me?

later, my phone lit up.
a girl has added you as a friend!
and so i added her back,
smiling to myself.

i said hey
and she said hello
then we started to talk,
words on a screen and not in the air.

i think you're really special and unique,
she told me,
and i was again flattered.
so i typed thank you.

tom was right, you are kind,
the reply told me.
i want to say that i was scared to talk to you
because you seemed like a literal perfect human being
and i was afraid that if i said something wrong,
you would dislike me.


what could i say to that?
Sep 13

Not All Prison Inmates Come Home Safe

"Mom, why do we have to go?"
"Sweetie, I've told you before. There's a mean, storm coming. We need to go before it shows up."
"Why is it mean?"
"I don't know, honey. We just need to go."
"Why are we leaving Daddy behind?"
"Daddy's safe, we don't need to worry about him."
"He is?"
"Mhmm. After the storm comes by, he'll come home."
"Yay! How long do we need to wait?"
"Not much longer, sweetie, not much longer."
As Katrina rolled in, the mother looked out the window. 
"Please, God, return Josh to us. Please."


#smallstories
Sep 11

Sixteen

Another year.
Another September 11th.

Another day of hoping.
Of wishing.
Of waiting.

I should be learning how to drive,
like my friends are.

My parents say to wait.
As they always do.

A sweet sixteen feels so empty.
I should've kissed a boy, right?
Done something dumb?

Nothing has happened, I feel so alone.
Sep 07

A Day

Sep 05

Hold Your Nose

Sep 04

Pretty Skies

Aug 31

Stars of the Midnight Range

I suggest listening to this while you read, it helped me get in the mood to spit this out

My chair was creaking as the wind blew, rocking me back and forth. As my fingers gently strummed my guitar, my eyes closed.

This peaceful night was one I'd always remember.

The stars above me were bright, twinking and watching everything. At my feet, my Belle slept. Her fur was greying around her snout - I knew she didn't have much time left. Nonetheless, she spent that time with me.

It's so strange, isn't it? Those stars, looking like the entrance to Heaven. 

They were drawing ever closer. I opened my eyes, trusting the stars.

This old hunter's time was up on this earth. As I began to drift away, Belle looked up at me. She leapt from where she was lying and joined me on this path of stars.

 
Aug 31

I Hope it's the First and Only Time This Happens (Surprise: It Keeps Happening)

a/n: some of the language used comes from my experience at high school. lo siento.


"Maddy! You've got to be kidding me! You can't just stab someone because they wouldn't let you cut in front of them!" My outraged exclamation didn't seem to faze my sister. She only glared at me.

"Suck my ass, Marisa." She scowled, dropping the plastic knife. Despite it being a blunt weapon, she still managed to..pierce skin with it? "You were the one who snitched, weren't you?"

"Why would I?! You always do this in the open. I don't even need to tell anyone, everyone already knows." I sighed. Teachers that I hadn't had the chance to meet yet bustled past, consoling the injured boy she'd stabbed. They ignored my sister and I.

Well, mostly.

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