star

I wrote this for a Lord of the Flies creative project for school for which a prompt was to write about what would happen if it was girls on the island instead of boys.

I love the way your eyes look,

making me want to dive in,

reach the depths of the shades of greens and blues of the ocean hidden behind your dark lashes.

Knowing I'd drown,

sinking to the darkest parts.

It’s a tired time we’re living in,

A tired time indeed.

We’re on the verge of giving in 

To gluttony and greed.

And we say that we are fighting,

Yet we haven’t changed a thing.

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,

i'll use your name. sweet nothings spill

from well-meaning mouths & shatter on concrete radiating summer sun

right back at you, perfect -- dainty -- shiny with dewdrops. they told me