star

Hair tucked behind ears,

Cheeks pink and glowing,

Smiles illuminated by the sun,

Weeping willow branches cascading like poetry

Onto fluttered-closed eyelashes;

There’s a girl in my grade who cut herself last week.

does anybody else get that feeling deep in their chest, sharp like it's begging to come out but also soft as in fire soft, embers in a hole in the ground?

They won’t teach me how to be a woman— 
But they’ll notice when I’m not. 
Say I should smile more, try harder, 
Be brighter, quieter, 
Less me, more what they forgot. 

you are of another mother

I knew you before

before that

man

I loved you before

now I'm left away

searched

and you're stopped

and hurt

I hope to love you again

I write this now, in loving memory of a man who has not yet left us.