Writing

You stand up

To take a solo.

Before, I've always smiled

At it.

Seeing you solo

Is incredible -

Just watching you -

I may not know you,

But I know you

By how you play.

she’s not made for this world
of cropped tops and cold shoulders
of high-pitched cruelty
and eyeliner wings sharp enough to kill 
but she’d sell her soul
just to sit with them for five minutes

I like to think 

that if our friends;

sometimes the closest people in our life,

can see us for our soul.

Then so can others. 

It’s 6 AM at the end of September, and Vermont's trees are transitioning into their autumn beauty. The mornings are my favorite: the quiet, peacefulness, and calm of the world are one of a kind.

Walking through the college greens 

On a warm night

Some random song stuck in my head

Playing on repeat once again

Smelling the new flowers blooming 

In the garden near my favorite picnic table

I put my turn signal on and pull off of the pavement. I open my car door and breathe in the spring air. I see new leaves, green, on the trees, and potholes that I dodge and jump as I start skipping.