Reid@YWP

every day my friend asks me

how many days.

every day my answer shrinks

and we shudder

willing ourselves to believe in light and truth and good

but can't help whispering

Might I seethe this lonely perch 

An ends to meet with scruffy birch, 

It’s colder here than was before, 

Yet many woes’ that come no more. 

Smoke curls into the air,

Twirling,

One thread dipping another,

A slow waltz

With some quick steps to spark

The band,

A careful orchestra

I am nauseous, constantly.

There is a Fear deep rooted in me.

My hands no longer shake in tests

the Fear is bigger than tests now

I want to go to college, let me go