The Clockwork of High School

Are we all one burning torch?

Is my head just a shell for their money? 
Is the sky a hole? 

Am I another cog in the wheel of time?
Stuck as another piece in the repetitive
puzzled cycle of knowledge,
pressure, and ignorance?

My mind is a kettle
and you are boiling it over. 

Come. Remove your heat from underneath. 
I have started to wail. 

 
Avatar for username Love to write

Love to write

VT

YWP Alumni Advisor

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  • Poetry

    By Love to write

    Unbecoming

    The streets have teeth and we hold our fingers with enough space for the others and drink cider on a corner where the ceiling above us blinks blue-blue-blue onto her tonsil-pink dress and someday I hope I never have to see it in a suitca

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  • By Love to write

    Self-Portrait at 18

    I know it’s a bad title 
    but I’m carving these words 
    out of my compacted mind. 
    I’m trying to mix the mud of my thoughts 
    into something more coherent 
    than to do lists and quiet 

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  • By Love to write

    Authorized Entrance Only

    There is no twilight in the city. 
    Only time we collect in our mouths, 
    sun peeling color off the streets,
    rats skittering down sidewalks.

    The fire escape has been painted gold.
    It shimmers at night, 

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