Writing

I follow you down the dark, dank stairway,

Not taking a glance back the way we came.

The footsteps I take are whispers;

No one can hear them but me.

But you still listen to my heartbeat

After the snowfall in the winter there's a sky so deep that it scares me to look up,

to know my fragile kitten heart belongs to such a universe.

Soon it’s November—

Pumpkins and cranberry skies.

Autumn winks; she’s gone.

My body is a revelation

Unseen and unspoken

My body is a revolution

You will see I’m unbroken

My conscious is power

As I breathe, I fight

My conscience is power

Bullies and haters

I wish they'd just disappear

But I'm still standing

Clock ticking

impatiently waiting

for 3:15 

to strike.

Last class

smiles ringing across

the room, eyes

never leave

the time.

Laughter fills

the last day

of the week,