Writing

it is november now which is unbelievable

because last night we got blisters on our feet running

house to house in too-small rainboots, our wings

flapping lopsidedly behind us. it rained on and off

Am I doing this right? 
Is there some rule book for college that my mom never made me read?

Was it lost in translation because I was never popular? 
Or maybe because my parents had stricter rules?

MY HEART IS ONLY ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY FIST. I HAVE WEAK ARMS, SO MY FISTS DON'T HIT VERY HARD. MY HEART IS DIFFERENT IN THIS REGARD.

You should stop yelling

The clutter; I’m broken wings

Is peace just that hard?

When I first got switched on, I became the world’s first half-human, half-robot teacher. My mind stretched into every database of human knowledge. I could teach anything.

By the time the streetlights flickered on, the cul-de-sac was already empty. Pumpkins lay sideways on porches, their candles out, their smiles melted. Gwen stood at the end of the street, costume wrinkled, pillowcase empty.