NiñaEstrella

June 13, 2066

I do not consider myself a poet.
I never have.
It's always been my sister's thing
To write.
I consider myself:
A dancer
A photographer
A friend
A Harry Potter fanatic
A reader
A nerd

I want to remember 
Home.
Frozen at 10 and a half
I want to remember.
I want to remember my orange, crisp sheets.
I want to remember my sister’s piano melody floating around the house.

This is a rant of the worst thing in my life.

It was so horrible.
And today I missed everyone and everything so much
All my memories are too clear,
I can’t shake myself of the pain.
I was supposed to have fun.

The ant
  is
   trying.
But it is not
  trying
   hard enough.
It clambers and climbs
  Through dirt and 
   Soil.
A faded neon sneaker rests in the bright green grass.

Scene one, act one. An office building in San Fransisco.

Jack: So you're saying that I have no reason to come here, after months and months of this, and demand an explanation?