Acer Sacharrum

I came to sit by you everyday,

Listening to your laugh,

Imagining what it'd be like if we were friends,

Knowing you don't feel the same. 

At school we draw in the margins of our notebook paper

and toy with the idea of moving to Australia. 

We look up the latest news in between classes, knowing that

the teachers will think we're addicted to our phones.

this is not a poem. 

this is not a song.

this is not metaphor, a sonnet, an ode, not a ballad, a rant, not even a dream–

this is a plea. 

I want to drink apple cider with you 

Like it’s a fine wine, 

Make-believe adult, wrapped in your wool blanket, 

Counting the minutes until your parents return. 

I never thought about you in the daytime 

When the sun spread like melted butter over the dwindling 

Blueberry bushes. 

I’d scavenge with them