I sigh as I reread my work. "Too this, too that. Not good enough. Will I ever be good at this?" Discouraging thoughts 
 are in play and they keeping snowballing. 

Hold on. I need to tell myself that I am only 11 and not yet a writer. I have the rest of my life to work on this. "Step back, I am a young writer" I tell myself.

 

            Gun laws need to be addressed. From school shooting to threats. Gun are a big problem. Lots of people don’t agree with me but I think guns should be mostly illegal. I know it will not completely wipe them out but it will help. For hunting I think you should have to go through a whole lot of other steps and make sure they are in a safe environment. For starters i think you need a house inspection to make sure you have a safe and it won't be dangerous. This will help people keep their jobs but still make the US a better place to live in. I have friends who are terrified because of school shootings. I scared that my friends in New York are not safe. So I need help enforcing these laws. Some people won’t agree but this will help I know.    

 

I'm writing this to rant about my frustrations.
So it's three weeks until the end of the semester, right?
Well, I have a 72 in history.
Why?
I, along with the majority of my history class, is missing three important assignments.
With our teacher being out, we mostly forgot that we had to turn them in.
She told us Monday that we had to turn them in, which is fine. 
But while she graded everyone else's, she has yet to grade mine.
And I turned them all in.
I'm not too happy about that. But I'm gonna fix it.
Not only that, I was on a school-issued computer in second period,
And when I plugged in my earbuds,
THE SOUND WOULDN'T WORK!
So I have to use my iPod for music.
AND ON TOP OF ALL THAT,
We have a vocab test today in English, which I'm stressed about.
I'm having a bunch of other problems to top the rest of them.
I'm so stressed right now.

This isn't the first letter I've written to you. I've written to you in the dead of night, paragraphs upon paragraphs that you'd open in the morning. Guess who never got those cute messages, oh yeah, it was me. I had a beautiful picture be drawn to celebrate our first one month. Somehow you seemed to fuck up before you even saw it.  I have written note after note about how you hurt me, and you did it again, except this time I was finished. I don't long for your touch anymore because what once felt like fire, now feels like ice. Your words that once were music now sound like thunder, and you know I don't like storms. I'm a storm and maybe that's why I've learned to hate myself. When I told my mom what you did, she said she wasn't surprised. My family hated me as I made the mistakes again and again. I now see them as mistakes, not chances. Remember when I texted you, about that magician. It had made me think of you.

Why do people think this series is for kids?! Murder, poison, forbidden love, grusome deaths, slitting throats, murder to cover up a secret, attempting to drown cats, wiping out entire clans, and don't forget about mass murder! 

Sorry.

Have you ever walked down the halls and have everyone look at you even though they might not be looking at you have you ever felt like they were? Well, that’s how I feel….. I’m black…. and it's hard as shit to live in Vermont because Vermont, unfortunately, is a pretty freakin white state. People have these stereotypes for black girls that were easy to get with or some shit like that. It sucks when your the only black person in your friend group and people in your friend group are making racist jokes and instead of someone sticking up for you they just laugh, nobody in the friend group is going to know what you feel like when that happens not now not ever. Yes, they might say “Veronica I get what your saying, that's awful”, But really they're just trying to make themselves feel better…..

She was a wild one.
And that's why
I loved her.
           She’d confuse me.
                     She’d enlighten me.
She brought me some of my happiest days,
       and
             Some of my saddest moments.
She was solace
She was chaos
                         She was wild.
And I dug my grave
                      trying to tame her.

I would never take back a single second
      spent with her.
I do not regret one moment
      within her hearts grasp
Some people fear the wild,
                 but I
                        embrace it.
                    For she was Wild.
             And I,
                       Crazy.


 

April. It really is a beautiful month. Possibly my favorite. Today-75%! To think! April is also National Poetry Month. That could be another reason why I love it so much. No wonder. I suppose they chose that for a reason. Spring signifies new beginnings and most of all beauty. Poetry shares that with April. You could be someone else aside from your writing. I just can't get over spring! I love it so much! Right now I am reading Anne of Avonlea. I adore it. Anne is a beautiful writer and yet a beautiful character. Avonlea is a dream. Especially in spring. You might think it is not enjoyable-Brooklyn springs. But the thing is spring is beautiful anywhere.
 

[unedited. also theres a cuss word yikes] 


I told myself I didn't have the right words for how I felt, and that I shouldn't try to quantify what I feel.
But the Feelings are pushing at my finger tips trying to escape, and the tears are at my eyes.

We were on my bed. dim lights on above. and I turned to her and 

She has this look on her face.

and I know she was tired.
and I know we haven't been together for long.
and I know she was a little under the weather.
and I know I shouldn't fall this easy.

But she was just. looking at me.
wide eyes.
pupils dialated.
mouth parted.

looking at me like.
like she loved me.

like I was beautiful with my tired eyes and messy hair.
like who I was, was more than enough for her.
like she was happy to be with me.
like there was no where else to be.
like there wasn't anything else on her mind.