Poetry

you are a dancer and so you find a way to dance

through everything:

the hallways, gym class, chorus

when we have to stand, white fields, your dance studio,

we plan sledding days at the country club with a hill

& reminisce about them when summer comes,

recall hours spent tumbling

head over heels into mounds of snow, clutching

1. First place at the tournament
2. Two events every week
3. Three mornings at the gym every week
4. Four favorite pinning combinations
5. Five two hour practices each week

You are cold

The kind of cold that

Tears through your skin

Flies up your arms

And slams itself

Deep

In your

Heart

Slashing

it’s wild nails

At your bones

Weren’t we supposed to be

Different?

Didn’t we fight wars

Didn’t we sign papers,

Promising we were something?

Something

New?

But papers are just ink

And quills

Trudging through marsh,

seeking what may judge life. 

A light breeze guides steps;

simply superficial ease.

Enamor and lust,

stumbled upon. 

Icy, cold, wet ground.

I wish that spring would come soon.

Botanical light.

When we ask questions

we get answers

but they don't answer our questions

they leave us hanging

and they are the answers to a different question.

If I try to clarify

it gets worse

Their names were mine

I took care of them

they are my closest confidants

and forever will be

Fuzzy Bunny

one of the oldest of them all

worn and not very fuzzy anymore

I'm sick

nothing to do about it

let me go home

it can't be the end of the world if I'm not there for an afternoon, can it?

I'm contagious

everyone else would get whatever the heck I have

you don't want this

Thank you Young Writers Project

For this beautiful opportunity

Where we can all express ourselves

And have support from others

And not worry about being judged

Because we all care about this

Be glad that I am still here

you should love my prescence

why wouldn't you?

I protect your back

that is, when you're looking