Reid@YWP

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 were always a constant to me.

there was a book in the back of our classroom

tucked between crates of other, more important tomes

it had a picture of you on the cover and i read it almost every day

her magenta marker

the silent clock

my desk, now darker

with dust like chalk.

his name in my phone

my swimming mind

his teeth were like moonstone, 

mouth open that night.

There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—

he barks at anyone that nears,

snarling teeth that glow shiny in the afternoon light. 

There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—