pushes through

MY HEART IS ONLY ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY FIST. I HAVE WEAK ARMS, SO MY FISTS DON'T HIT VERY HARD. MY HEART IS DIFFERENT IN THIS REGARD.

“I’m good at poetry, I just don’t like it very much.

It’s one of those things where if you do it enough for school, you get just as good as someone who likes it.”

I walked home the long way because I knew the sky would not be angry at me.

The moon knew what it felt like to be so tired you couldn’t even think

Of going to bed.