twoblueviolets

Growing up isn't something you enjoy

Unless you're, like,

Five,

And the world is still golden,

And you can't see

The hourglass

And the grains of sand

Falling

Falling

I write in pen

to get comfortable with my mistakes

to catch all my thoughts

scatterbrained

and fleeting

pens scratch the itch to write

better than any graphite

the use of ink before pencils 

when i breathe out nicotine leaves my mouth

naturally

i’m fifteen and i'll never be this young again

i'm fifteen and i'll never be this young again.

Every day I spend 

Afraid  

Of what you might do to me

Every word you say is like a gunshot

To the chest.

Even your favorite subject can be your hardest.  

Even the "smart ones" will fail. 

Even good grades become futile.  

Even a textbook won't teach you.