star

star

NH

15 years old

Posts

  • By star

    once it was may...now it is not

    Once it was May,
    and flowers bloomed in sidewalk cracks,
    robins flitted through the not-quite-summer air and
    I lay in bed with the windows open and wrote poems as light as butterfly wings.
    I thought I had everything figured out.

  • By star

    I'm sorry, I have a question:

    When did it start?
    Girls being told they were less than boys, that they'd never be anything but wives and mothers,
    that was their role in society, no questions asked

  • By star

    temporary goodbye

    Sometimes I still scroll through our text messages
    nearly two years old now, no one's added a thing since May 2021
    and of course no one will, because everything we wrote in there was

  • By star

    13.

    Once I dropped a penny in a fountain and wished to be a teenager.
    I was only five; I thought it'd come true.
    I insisted to my parents that my wish had been granted,
    pretended to act moody like I heard teenagers were,
  • By star

    Circle under the sky

    We all sat in a circle under the sky
    on a cool July night
    in our own little corner of the world
    where everything was perfect,
    or at least good, at least peaceful
    without war, without hate
  • By star

    seven

    I like so many songs that it's almost impossible to choose a favorite, but I do love "Seven" by Taylor Swift.

Loves

  • sleepaway #1

    it rained the night of our arrival -

    big, whooshing gasps of whitewashed rain & thunder that

    shook heavy against the darkening skies. dinner went long.

    we only sang louder, deafening echoes beneath the storm as

  • Summer

    the air tastes like honey and promise 

    sticky with the scent of blooming jasmine 

    and freshly cut grass that crunches beneath bare feet 

    the sky drips blue 

    stretching wider every afternoon 

  • ASHES AND BIRTHDAY CANDLES

    your birthday was halo-lit nights and cigarettes in sugar cakes—

    melted icing smeared over the tips of flames snuffed out in the dark.

    you asked for a songbird, said your lungs were burnt with apocalypse dust

  • Morning in Paris

    It’s morning in Paris, 

    and the city still sleeps, 

    though the sun has long risen 

    and the cat has long been stretched in the light 

    that washes over the quiet courtyard.