Writing

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head. 

You can't fix what's broken,

So should you start anew?

The pieces are shattered,

Hearts on the floor,

The trust has been stomped on,

You've walked out the door.

You can't fix what's broken,

Four years.

The first year the devil

Was my best friend

My

Entire

Universe

So close he could see inside my head

See inside my heart

Knew every little secret,

Every part of me

Sentimentality

all the time

wishing to be younger

to be somewhere else.

I wish that I was in fourth grade again

and everyone was friends

and everyone was happy and content

Your goal is to make me jealous.

To make everyone jealous.

Even your friends.

Friends? Or followers?

You're all leaders and not very good at it anyway,

And guess how that works out,

I want to write about everything

the steady rain

the misery

the end of school

the upcoming event

the natural world

the current political universe of doom

but I can't phrase it