Poetry

Look in the mirror,

What do you see?

Someone,

Who will always be ugly?

Someone,

Who will never be pretty enough?

you had glitter

spilling out of your mouth

fine as stardust

golden as pollen

falling to the floor

feeding no one

you’re wasting yourself

now all you feel

is emptiness

What separates their grief from ours?

Research shows that elephants grieve

They have been seen to stand vigil

Quiet

    Quiet wailing 

He was the prince of the highest of the highest. 

She was a dirty, rotten lowlife.

He had everything.

She had nothing. 

He loved her.

I almost called you last night.

I picked up the phone, my finger hovering above your name.

I was going to tell you something funny,

I don’t remember what now,

The flowers died on Monday. 

They had always flourished before that.

Red, yellow, green, and blue. 

They were always full of life.

Like her.

everything is hot and stuffy 
our glasses sweat, 
they create pools of condensed water 
the table sticks to my elbows from humidity 
its plastic is scratched from so many plates before

we kissed 
your lips red and full
mine chalky and dry

you stomped by everyone's sleeping heads 
when i pushed u off 
dripping ur red lips 
from your angry veins

stains no one would see 

living for our friends to laugh

as we walk down the halls

hand in hand

or see each other in passing

and smile knowingly

living to show up to school

in your hoodie

or for you to show up in mine

we bury the dead beneath the ground 

and look up towards the sky to reach them, 

and we dare say there is a distinction in direction 

you do not have to look 
at the moon 
to know she is full.

she is my sister, 
full 
more than full 
more than infinite 
more than 
the line between the rock and the sky

I was ten when the sky cracked open, 
and fire spilled out like molten glass through the sky. 
The fair smelled of caramel and dust, 
and I was scared of how bright the world could get.