i would love to be remembered
for the good stuff i've done.

helping people out, whether it be with their homework
or through the worst hours of their lives
or, even, helping my anxious friend
asking questions when she wasn't able to

hell, all i want to do is help people
adopt a shelter dog or cat, donate to the food pantry
adopt or foster a child, volunteer at a nursing home
be a therapist, talk things through with people

i've never felt more accomplished when i was told,
"I really appreciate that you try to help others."
and
"I like you and I appreciate your help vey much! Thank you for helping me with my attachment problems."
it makes it all worth it.

i'd like to be remembered as someone who
cares very much about the wellbeing of other living things.
nothing is more important to me than the happiness of people around me.

I have never been "graded".
I have never gone to school,
but I can imagine...
and I rather resent it.
I have lost many of
my friends to school...
my best friend.
I am thrirteen years old
I learn in my own way
in my own time.
I never sit at a desk and write.
I lounge comfortably on
my bed or in the woods.
I know I could never go to school,
I know I would feel
trapped and contained,
and this is why I believe that
grades do NOT reflect
your progress or growth
because look at me,
I have never been graded,
yet I learn just like you.
I learn math and language,
history and social studies,
but I learn about nature,
medicine and wilderness survival skills,
I learn science and music.
I just learn them differently,
yet I am just the same as you.

 

I wrote this because we might be moving next summer.

The white paint
Still shines brightlly and 
If anyone dared to paint it another color
I wouldn't recognize it.
All of the rooms are as familiar as 
An old baby blanket
Keeping me safe
And warm.
It's cluttered,
But messy isn't really the right word
Because everything about it is neat
If you know where to look.
Each piece of furniture
Means something different, something
Right.
Every time I see the mosaic above the stove
I remember the fight we had about keeping it or not.
My dad and my sister wanted it,
And my mom and me didn't.
It's still there, though.
And I'm always eternally glad that
We kept it.
The living room has the feeling of 
Many Christmases spent in front of the fire.
I'll see a dog toy on the floor and remember how crazy we thought it was

FIRST ISSUE-ENVIRONMENT
What the heck, humans!!! We are ruining the environment and we might not live to be adults all because of stupid climate change!! and guess whose fault climate change is? Ours! We have GOT to step up our game and take responsibility! We have to stop using plastic and other things! We are KILLING ocean species because of plastic!! ALL THE PLASTIC WE"RE USING!!!!!!!! Come ON, people! Also, stop buying big trucks because their emissions are ruining the ozone layer!!!!! And ALSO, PEOPLE PLEASE STOP PUTTING FOOD SCRAPS IN THE TRASH! IT WILL GO TO THE LANDFILL AND PRODUCE GREENHOUSE GAS!!!!! IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO GET COMPOST!!!! And if you live in a city, go talk to the city council and see if you can make a place where all the residants of the city can put the compost!!! Stand up and MAKE SOME CHANGE!!!!!!! COME ON, PEOPLE!!!
SECOND ISSUE-RACISM & SEXISM

i remember england. 
mostly right now i remember my dormitory: 
a little place with an insufficient fan, 
blackout curtains that opened onto a courtyard
and when the sun was out it was too hot to keep them closed
and when it rained the raindrops ran down the windowpanes and it looked like music. 
i remember wandering the streets, hungry and uncomfortable, 
before giving up and buying dinner from the grocery store down the street
and eating it with a stolen fork while watching doctor who in my room. 
i remember waking up early every morning and sneaking to the showers. 
i remember the smell of the restrooms
and speaking out dialogue to no one from writing projects in a bathroom stall at eleven at night to see if it sounded any good. 
i remember sunburn and subway rides and london pride--
the simultaneous exhileration and alienation of being surrounded by people flaunting an aspect of themselves

Another story to tell-
because these days I 
can't think of the future. 

Do you wonder about the stars-
every night they shine
for billions of souls to see. 

Guess what's on my mind- 
have you got an answer?
I'd tell you, it's
just- you might be afraid. See, 

kings and queens rule over
land- worry rules over 
my thoughts.

(nothing can be simple)

Only breathing, but even then the 
precious air seems to fight for space in my
quilted body. 

(restless rise and fall)

Saying things is not beliveing
them, yet  
under every star-filled sky is a 
victory and a child.

When we look around, 
x-rays of our eyes look like magnifying glasses. 
You're sweet to wonder about my 
zagging thoughts. Are you sure it's better to be together?

The quiet potential of the vehicle slept 
Through a freeing darkness of misty rain
Down the windows the silver droplets crept
The shine of the water could certainly stain

The rain covers like shadows, thick as honey
It envelops the car in midnight water
I’ll come soon when the rain shimmers sunny,
And the clinging rain on its toes will totter

So the shadows retreat to their soft corners,
But the drops grasp glass with their might
The wipers laugh creakily, the rain’s scorners
For the water can’t withstand their ear-splitting bite

I pry the door open and swing into my place
A content roar erupts as I rotate the key
The wipers flick away beauty with squelching grace
I can see down the road, but is that better for me?

This car is painted with my future and my past
And covered in drops of love lost on the way
While I speed towards new chapters incredibly fast

Dear America. 

I don't think you ever loved me, no, 
i lost that illusion a long time ago, 
maybe the people inside you cared a little, 
but you? I don't think so, 

Dear America. 

These countries stuck inside of me 
they're a part of me, i don't think you can see 
that i cannot give one up for you, cannot fight for you
against people who have my blood in their veins, 
this language on their tongue, 
my homeland's dirt on their boots, 
a mother's fear on their gun, 

Dear America. 

Please try to be patient with me, 
I know that you can't see a whole countries history 
written in my eyes, but next time just 
realize before you meddle that it might be justified 
later when they call death to your name, 
it's not because everyone in that country is one 
and the same as their government, no, 
it is because they might have been willing to forgive,