Writing

Picture something in your mind. 

Anything.

Then, like water eroding the sand on a cliff,

like a white van coming to take them away,

like a dream,

imagine it different.

imagine it better

or worse,

the crow queen isn't a crow

she is born of crow

and shows the crows mercy

but isn't crow

she is somewhere between the lines of magic and human

a power bestowed upon her unrightfully.

Every July 4th, I wonder why we do this. Why we stand on the sides of the streets, watching little children hold their arms out for candy, gazing at the police cars and fire trucks rolling by in tandem.

This is the worst kind of anticipation

this anticipation isn't just fear of what is to come

it's laced around the edges with knowledge of how it went last time

of how a repeat of last year is most likely inevitable.

I am 15, a rising sophomore struggling mentally. Can’t motivate myself to do much, still dreading the first day of school. I often find the phrase “I can’t” pouring out of my mouth as I feel out of control, laying in my mom’s arms.

I think she should’ve known this would happen

When that straight-A girl became the one 

who’d sneak out past midnight,

And the cries turned to hindsight.