maelynslavik

I have been told

To put curl cream in my hair

Upside down, eyes 

Straining against the ceiling light,

Curls straining toward the tile floor,

Bunching.

I will smell

I should be being

A teenager

Walking around

Biking the village with friends

Creemees

Candy

Joking

Laughing

Teasing

Farmers markets

Confessions

Crushes

Running around

submission for next year's prompts:

Use the NY Times Connections as a writing prompt! Take all 16 or one line of the words generated in there (before it's been solved) and use them in a poem or short story.

The sun didn’t kiss these boys

It hugged them

The way you would with your best friend before

Leaving for a long time

It hugged them and

It made their skin the color of a caramel

And their hair like the sand

they have taken her.

hope.

she is trapped in the great big house made of new money & keys

that open nothing anymore. it is named america.

you can hear her,