Writing

He waits each year

For that one week of the summer

Where he can feel free

And finally be himself 

Kin among kin

Finding safety in their differences 

He watches the young ones

People describe blueish green eyes as the ocean,

or the sky,

or there favorite color when they don't know what to call the shade they see...

that's boring.

I love the way your eyes look,

making me want to dive in,

reach the depths of the shades of greens and blues of the ocean hidden behind your dark lashes.

Knowing I'd drown,

sinking to the darkest parts.

It's sort of familiar

You next to me

I can't tell if it's me being familiar to you

How you feel beside me

Or familiar to

Being pressed against someone on a couch

(this has happened to me a lot)

Again, we piled onto the couches

Facing each other

The librarians told us to keep it down.

Again, we talked and laughed

Learned all the new drama

Caught up to each other's summer lives

What is a true friend? What qualities make a true friend? What makes your friends so special? Are you a good friend?