Writing

Ronnie Ravenwood smiled, soft and sad. “They told you I was evil, didn’t they?” Her voice echoed in the dark, wrapping around me like silk.

I swallowed, throat dry. “They killed you because of your stone.” 

I had this dream the other night that some object in outer space had been reflecting radiation onto certain people: just dissolving them painlessly into light.

I woke up just like any other day. Get up, get dressed, go to school. It was all normal up until recess. I was on the swing set the first time I saw him. A shadow of a figure that looked. . . like me?

Still light, yellow. Temples faced at the sky, the church of recollection echoes with ‘Old Florida’ shrimp spices. Gasoline and salty motorcycles revv by with the pattern of pulse in my neck.

Having a best friend is like

you know all their deepest secrets

but will forget their favorite color.

We go for calculus before algebra

before we even know it since

every bff relationship is an even,

We didn't do what was possible in our work, we broke everything every time we changed the world anew.