Writing

Everyone is so excited for summer

and I don't dislike them for it

but I don't understand why.

The heat is overwhelming

temperatures of 80, even 90 this year

and it's only barely June;

I am falling down

further

and further

faster

and faster

the school year is almost over-

hooray, summer-

but all of a sudden

reality crashes down on me

as powerful as a tidal wave

I will be the court jester

But when you remind me of my past

My lungs refuse to laugh

Now I fall quiet

A sad smile dances on my lips

As I glance at you with pain in my eyes

I step off the sweaty bus

And onto hard pavement.

It's not raining hard

But it's not not raining hard, either.

My purple Converse

Step around puddles

On the sidewalk.

what do I do when the leaves are dead?

what do I do with this road ahead?

i'll walk the stretch, and clear the way,

but my feet won't move today. 

what do I do when these trees are surreal?

Our end is bittersweet,

some look down in defeat, 

while others raise their fists in victory.

Some of us may cry when we wave goodbye, 

some may smile with a twinkle in their eye.