Nonfiction

I am tired. 

I am sad.

I am grouchy.

The long night that had occurred, only just hours ago, has left me restless.

And I, am not one to be restless.

this is not a poem. 

this is not a song.

this is not metaphor, a sonnet, an ode, not a ballad, a rant, not even a dream–

this is a plea. 

TITLE: Saudade

PROMPT: “Leave” (End with “And now I know why I can never leave”)

I always wanted a daily recess. Now that I finally had one, I didn’t want to go outside. Last summer, I moved to Vermont from Miami. Just like every book character, I’m the new kid. I love it.

I was anxious in theater class. I was talking at Wren, my theater friend of a couple months, blabbing tirelessly on about some kids' book I liked.

Camp was almost over for the summer. Kids were running around on the lawn, playing foursquare, swinging on the swings and building fairy houses.

When I was sixteen, I remember feeling nostalgic for things I hadn’t yet lost. Pure, raw adolescence.

Jeannette Rankin 1880-1973

For eleven years, I've been a part of the YWP community. I started when I was 11 years old and I went by my old name back then. I used to publish my work here all the time, but much of my publishing has now moved to my university.

Right now we are living in a world where we use fossil fuels to run our lives. But this needs to change!

Aging is such a hard concept to get your head around. The world moves, and sometimes it’s easy to forget that you do too, in ways that are impossible to see or fully understand.

You spend most of your childhood wanting to grow up. You dream of all the things you'll do, the people you'll meet, the freedom of a life where you are the captain of your own ship.