Reid@YWP

It’s my birthday:

I wake up early

Because of nerves

Or maybe

It’s just random.

It’s my birthday:

I unwrap two presents

For every word I can’t say,

I try to write it down,

but at the end of the day,

I know I’ll never find the words.

They jumble together,

like the sunset’s melting colors.

For every excuse I make,

how the wind blows over the river

quite a curious thing, isn’t it,

the way the water rolls in time

with the wind’s hushed music

that echoes

We call it: “catastrophe,” as if —  it is different.

A child nursed of negligence.

Yes, it is not ours —

i remember my first day of middle school

i was wearing washed-out jeans and a t-shirt from Target

my short brown hair was parted to the side