Writing

laughter loud

happiness fulfilled

smiles wide

hearts still

public places

not stopping us now

still laughing

laughing loud

you're not

leaving yet. no,

i'll glue your limbs to the pavement,

lower your waving hand,

tell you

something to make your eyes crinkle

again.

again,

again,

again.

I am with my best friend, at her kitchen table, trying to tell her about a hard time I'm having.

I have this dream

where the sky is dark,

moon illuminating,

faded stars surrounding it,

that I gaze at from 

the top of my roof.

I guess I'm happy for you.

Actually, I really am.

At least, I'm expected to be.

Because, if you can't be proud 

of one of your best friends,

can you really be proud of

anyone.

On my first day of sixth grade, someone told me, “You’re the only person that has said that to me today.” You might be confused by what I just said, but I promise, you will soon understand.