Writing

I wasn't always like this-

I wasn't always with friends or have perfect grades. I didn't always have shoulder lengthen hair.

I didn't always have eyes that changed colors depending on everything. 

...but maybe that's the point?  I wrote at random inspiration and when I was tired, but I hope you find it entertaining

“The world,” said Claire, “is a very pointless place.”

On the hearth

there is a fireplace

it has a pile of chopped logs,

coals,

torn up pieces of newspaper

awaiting their burnt endings

On the hearth

a fire burns

flickering and crackling

Do I dare write about this

about real honesty

about what stands in front of me

next to me

always there

all day?

Do I dare point this out

without you asking

who was this about

A monkey resting

leaves to filter, clouds above

and lies out of reach?

i used to dream

of the day

i started middle school,

thinking the excitement

of getting older

outweighed the pain

of growing up.

my teachers wondered why.

and now that i'm in