nimbostratus

The cool air on my face.

The sun blazing overhead.

Running through the neighborhood with friends.

With no fears of school bothering your mind.

I am convinced that me being alive is to also die at the exact same time

I watch the girl in the mirror decaying 

She's replaying every word she's heard 

The world saying 

About her eyes

Her Lips

Technically, I’m an immigrant;  

I wasn't born here. 

Technically, I’m too young, 

just shy of a year. 

Technically, I’m inexperienced, 

barely know the rudiments.