Writing

On the first warm night of spring

I lie on my bed with my window open

The cool breeze skates over my skin

Leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake

I fear that I lied to you, straight to your face

When you looked me in the eyes and asked

If I was ok, how I was doing

And I lied, straight to your face

There is nothing wrong with

wearing ribbons in your hair and

twirling in your plaid uniform skirt and

dressing like a tomboy sometimes and

refusing to let anyone tell you not to

wear your heart on your sleeve;

I recently read a book in verse.

I read it for the millionth time,

and it hits hard every single time. 

And it didn't make me think too hard

at first.

it didn't make me sad, 

It's a tree,

A plain old Apple tree,

So why does it mean so much to me?

The apples aren't normal, 

They're mostly rotten,

But the tree,

That apple tree,

It brings me peace,

Shade, 

Scene One

(Stage)

(Dr. Snowday sits in her chair, wrapping tape around her wrists.)

Dr. Snowday: Actors and Techie, start the show!