And yes,

you deserve one: you

who has stars in your eyes and

infinity running through your veins;

you, whose heart becomes so heavy

with the sunrise that you

will always pick up a pen and

write the melting universe 

onto a page: one

you have allowed yourself to fill and

have spilled upon with the ink

of your love;

you, who sees the wildflower

in the concrete, even when

it all seems to be shattered, who

uses your voice even when

you feel it has been rubbed raw and

incapable of making a change;

This is an ode to you, and

                                                  yes,

of course you deserve one;

you, who

is bursting with beauty and

the flame of a million lights lit up

by all the people you inspire;

This is an ode to you: all

of you.

I was small and stained with summer 
sun, grass blade knees, and scrapes 
all over. Morning dew and wild schemes, I lived 
inside the world of dreams where faeries hid 
beneath ferns and thyme. Teacup seats of acorn 
brown, spider silk for daytime gowns.I felt their hush 
at nightfall and sometimes I would recall enchanted dusk 
that slipped away whenever adults chose to stay.

So I became their architect, pebble plans, sticks, 
leaves, and flowers for temples short and round
on moss floors of soft ground where I’d leave them 
offerings of sugar and bread. I’d whisper low and bow 
my head imagining their feet in silver shoes waltzing 
upon the midnight dews, tiny deities of light. 
 

Friendships are complicated—sometimes they bring joy, and other times they hurt. 

Sometimes they feel full, and other times lonely. 

But just staying by someone’s side—just being part of their life—that matters. 

It takes time. It takes patience. 

People may come and go, and that’s okay. 

What matters most is being there when it truly counts.

​there's this guy 

funny 

smart 

athletic 

shorter than me though 

i've known him awhile 

since third grade when i​ came to our small school 

we've been in the same class since 

​but only became friends in fifth 

then better in sixth

and even better in seventh

a year later he tells me everything

and i tell him most 

​i'm not sure if he likes me

everyone has been shipping us

​while we joke around
 

maybe we flirt

but it's kind of annoying because they don't understand

​that our friendship is enough for me

​because i will always cherish the memories

even after this year is over

​the memories of us laughing

making fun of each other

me being his wing man to help him pull this girl he likes

all of our inside jokes 

me finally getting a phone and the first person i give my number to is him​ (besides my family)

​him being my only guy friend allowed in my room

so i guess there's always been this guy 

at least since the third grade

​but we're best friends not lovers

i would trust him with my life

and only him

The silence of 11 pm 

combined with the clicking of my keyboard, 

rushed typing, like i 

have somewhere to be. 

fingers lightly tapping across 

the keys when 

my mind goes blank. 

but it's not really blank,

open tabs telling

me what i actually

have to do.

The sound of my thoughts

drowns out the 

late night silence,

the abrupt creaks of floors,

doors,

the washing machine.

A car just passed by.

I wonder where it was

going this late.

At night.

Fingers still tapping while

another wave of deafening thoughts

floods my mind.

The tabs still stare,

I hear them yelling at

me to come back.

But my mind screams louder,

no.

NO!

Room still quiet.

But my mind won't

keep it silent.

I've been buried for so long. 

By dead leaves, snow, and the weight of winter's thick, cold air. 

All of it holding me down. 

For months I stayed stagnant. 

Unable to move. 

Unable to grow. 

Stuck in the cold confines of this cursed season. 

Until the heavy air slowly starts to 

lift away.

Something is beginning to change.

The cold icy crust that encased me all winter, 

that cut me like glass,

is now simply wet.

Melting away, the drops landing on me.

The thick layer of snow,

turning slushy.

At night, the sharp, cold crust returns.

But now, I sleep knowing that it will be gone by morning.

Through the many inches of fluffy white, 

I begin to see a light.

As the layer of snow grows thinner,

I am warmer.

The ground around me becomes wetter and wetter.

The water tells me what I've been waiting to hear.

It's time to grow.

I soak in the water and it activates me. 

I push my roots down, and wait.

Days pass, weeks, until finally, finally,

the snow above me is gone,

and I can see the sky.

In unfurl myself, 

the whole long green blade that I've been building since the first sign of thaw, 

reaching towards the warm sun.

I want to get closer.

I push myself higher,

opening myself up. 

A yellow flower.

Turning my face towards the warm glow.

And as soon as I feel it on my face,

I know.

It's spring.