Writing
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Grass Grows
Grass grows.
It gets trampled into the dirt
until it is dirt.
It disintegrates and decomposes and falls
apart,
into the soil.
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Junior Year in a Nutshell
Studying like my life depends on it
Prepping like my life depends on it
Driving like my life depends on it
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Only a Fairy Tale
my eyes open slowly.
my bedroom is full of sunlight,
highlighting the hay yellow paint.
the comforter hugs me gently.
a day like most days.
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Envelope
My science teacher accused me
playfully and yet fiercely
of stealing an envelope
I had been threatening to peel the cover strip off of the sticky part
so it glues together
because it was just so tempting.
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Abyssopelagic
My life is like a lake,
All water and round,
So clear it is a mirror,
Or rather, a looking glass.
But when you look a little closer,
Dip your toes beneath the surface,
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The Red Crayon
I haven't seen democracy since I was four years old,
coloring with crayons outside the lines while a man on screen was coloring the map with too much red that the blue was overpowered.