Writing

I get it, you have it worse,

I get it, you're in pain,

I get it, I don't matter,

Not to you, anyway.

So when you call my name,

I shall fast come running,

Leave myself behind,

Even as I'm losing time.

I’m afraid of the dark

And the art

I haven’t made

The places not stayed

And the overstayed welcomes I

Know not to inhale the stratosphere keep

Both feet on the ground

And look straight ahead

It's 12:34 AM on July 5th, 2025 and I still see fireworks going off in the sky.

I hear the booms, the bangs, the commotion of endless fireworks

going on for hours

still raging

on a brand new day.

I'm smiling to myself,

remembering,

reminiscing,

the good times.

The times where it was you,

and me,

against the world.

Who would stop us?

"listen close,"

you spoke as we lay sprawled out on the grass.

the festival's lights were bright.

the first firework of the night shot up.

"what comes first,"

"the boom or the light?"

blow out your candles. 

make a wish.

hold up a protest sign.

tonight the fireworks spell R E S I S T.

your hair's in pigtails braided red blue and white.