where the soft grass meets the sea

is where you'll find her

for eternity now. 

young and alive in vivid shades

of every color

she wears scarves that shimmer as they blow in the sea breeze 

and worn out flip flops printed with whales, 

covered in glitter that rubs off on everything. 

she is light as a feather 

dancing in the wind 

she twirls 

and watches the sea and the forest merge as she goes round

and round 

and round

she doesn't feel anxious

she's not worried about tomorrow 

about life 

or love 

all she feels is freedom

to watch clouds 

and make up stories about magical things

to listen to Beatles songs 

while she eats cantaloupe in the summer sun

to be simple 

for another day. 

i long for the times

of snow angels and sledding.

how free we were,

way back when.

we slipped down the hill,

narrowly avoiding several trees,

and mr. wilkins,

just to crash into the fence at the bottom.

we flopped face first

into the crisp snow

and pretended we could fly,

flapping our arms and soaring.

those days were beautiful,

weren't they?

i don't think we once

thought about tomorrow.

Today,

I saw a poster on my math teacher's door.

It said, You never know what somebody's going through. A little bit of kindness can brighten up their whole day! 

I know that to you it might not seem like much;

but it is.

Why are people not just inherently kind?

Why do we have to be told to be kind?

Why can't we just be kind on our own?

 

This is normal for most schools,

to put up posters about being kind.

I mean, most teachers are all about promoting kindness.

I just really hate that people are so mean,

that the teachers are noticing,

and they're talking to classes about being kind.

And then they put up posters to remind us about it.

I hate seeing posters about kindness.

Because all they do

is remind me of how horrible and mean our world is.

So much so that we have to be told, 

over,

and over again.

Just for something that we should already know how to do.

fallen ashes, soot-covered letters
little bullets fly through
stained missing pieces
 
slices through
throat tightens
swirling, racing, losing hope
 
gently, seeds fold into the ground
peace lilies blooming
sunshine flows over sunken, dry grass
 
tears of rain streaming down
repairing tired soil
drop l e t s falling
 
one, daring to hope
lightly, brightly,
uncurling sprout
 
rosy petals, fresh new branches,
tumble out, caring, mending
rise toward the sky
 
branching out,
Whole, United
grow with love
 

Finding hope can be hard sometimes, in this world where people are trodden on with little thought, and certainly no apologies. 

But I still try. 

Every day. 

I look up at the sky and try to find a way past the clouds to where the sun is still shining. 

Sometimes I get there, other times not.

My friends and I make hope together, through smiles and laughter and inside jokes.

I sometimes feel like I’m just playing along.

But it still makes a little hope bead up inside my heart.

And the hope fights against the terror and the pain.

But not with claws and teeth, with sunlight and gentle breezes.

Finding hope is necessary these days.

Because without it, I don’t know what I’d do.

periwinkle-blue light through my shuttered windows

my heart is racing but my mind is blank with things I don't know how to express

that k-drama I just watched stirred something in me

a longing of sorts

that calls to me from outside my bedroom window

it whispers a soft melody

breath brushing against the nape of my neck

but like everyday

I will crawl into my cocoon of TV romance

waiting until the clock strikes eighteen

i really don't get prejudice

i mean just the concept of it

how could you hate someone borne

by the same earth, the same fire

how could you explain someone else's life

as being worth less air than your own

i mean our lungs work the same don't they

we grasp the whole universe 

in our gaze but can't even look at our fellow beings 

and understand them as something other than not our own

i mean just the idea of it makes no sense

after we die,

won't all our skeletons look the same

The United States of America

as seen on the binding documents, on formal things

USA

as said by random people you know

The US

as told by your parents

America

as said by the people who come here for a better future

but what hope is there when our country is nearly as bad as their home?

What's the point of coming here, if only to die and fear and be hated on?

We used to be America

that promising future

but now,

the future cannot promise anything beneficial to us

not as long as our current government terrorizes us

not as long as a delusional man sits upon a throne of blood money

not as long as we are...

this?