Writing

Shattered moments

Gathering in my mind

Like when we went blueberry picking

And gave up on it

Because there were only a few ripe ones

And Z taught me that the green ones are actually pretty good 

I close the windows

Lock the doors

Turn off the lights

I don’t ever want to leave this room.

I am tired of drowning

In a world

That has never prepared me to swim.

There are ten days left until the first day of my freshman year,

And I am fearful.

Fearful of drowning under the thrashing waves,

For I have been taught to survive 

but never to truly live.

The island on wheels in the middle of our kitchen still smells new on the inside

If you've ever put your nose right up against an old plank of wood, you'd know the smell--that, and Styrofoam painted blue

I notice

You think I don’t

But I do

There are scars along your arms

Signs of your suffering

Bandaids that were no accident

There are ghosts behind your eyes

Seeking their release through your tears

There are hundreds 

Of thousands 

Of wings in our world, 

Each one a simple perfection 

Dancing in the spotlight