Poetry

If we get scared, they have us in their pockets.

If we don't, all they have is blood.

And blood is not a weapon. 

 Calm is the wind,

 Never a dull blemish,

 Calloused into the land.

“Blunt the sword”,

 Cried the makers of peace,

Inhale,

Begin to sigh,

Climbing a ridge.

Exhale,

Falling back down,

Crunching all the way.

i can’t express how much i love theatre

but sometimes people don’t understand

understand that the world doesn’t solely revolve around this particular show

sometimes i wonder what it would be like to have somebody who texted first

who would enjoy my texts however long they were

who would care when i’m sad

but i’ve just given up hope

What am I doing?

What am I doing?

I say I love this

and I like to think that I'm good at it

Am I?

I don't think so anymore

I forget to practice for lessons I dread

Twinkle, twinkle

little star

how I wonder what you are

am I your star?

Up above the world so high

that's where you are

that's where I want to be 

i’ve seen my friends in so much pain because of a relationship

so i don’t know how i could ever escape the heartbreak

the heartbreak of losing friends again

I like to think of them as souvenirs 

The spot on my back that the sun kissed so hard

It made a mark

They say that February is the month where the tan lines vanish

when you go to the emergency room
they ask you to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten 

i sit

eyes down

body tense

mind racing

the silence so loud it's deafening. 

Just so you know, 

You are not a number, 

you are not a digit out of 10 

or a rating, 

you are not a GPA 

and you are not what you got on the SAT,