Siyona.S.stay

I want to tell you  I love you 

I love you and your smiles

Your voice even though I’m still learning your language

The way your hands hold things 

A basketball 

Your sisters hand 

When Jennifer thinks about the idea of home, it's more than the idea of physical space. Home is her shelter; she feels safe, protected, and it's kind of like a utopia where she can do anything without judgment (obviously not crimes).

Derek yelped when the school bell sharply dinged, a harsh reminder of the class he was dreading. He tucked his phone into the top drawer of the highly graffiti-ed desk to remain hidden for the rest of the lesson.

when were you going to tell me

that we were never really friends?

and instead you pretended you liked me

so you could laugh at my tear-stricken face.

all those nights I opened up like you cared

The sinews from my strewn out muscles lay the skeleton of my blanket,

remind me of my strength, 

its fortitude when not forsaken.