Writing

Love is hard, hatred is easy.

How am I supposed to love the girl who pushed me in the hallway because I like reading about dragons? It’s much easier to hate her.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that”

Every girl has heard that phrase at some point, or will hear it at some point.

It means:

You’re a girl.

Girls are pretty.

Girls are happy.

Girls aren’t smart.

Ocean waves are music to my ears
Calming my raging thoughts about you,
Eleven O'clock, the time you proposed 
Air was cool beneath the moon

Running underneath the willow tree,
As my father hung the swing.
In the rain, I stand watching the same tree
Now, as I cry, reading his name on the stone below.

There is nothing below my feet as I rise off the ground. 

Looking up I slowly come closer to the endless blue sky.

My eyes burn, as the sun comes closer, burning me.

If life is full of the little things

like skating on smooth black ice and laughing with a friend

then I have nothing to look forward to

because there is good in every day.