Reid@YWP

She has just showered, and her hair hangs limp down her back, washed of the shampoo she waited five minutes, forehead against the cool tile wall, to rinse off. The sky is ink and charcoal, but then, it has been for hours.

This world we carry on our backs gets heavy sometimes 

our arms ache as we stare at the path ahead, 

a path we can't see an end to

pieces fall off and we wonder if they were important

Japan, 1863. Across the globe, the civil war rages.

I made the long walk

Across the plains,

through the village path

under the stars.

At long last, I came to the monastery

i think cats read poetry. you can tell

in the way their tails swish and how they fold their legs

all the time, probably wondering how silvery the pinecones

will look tomorrow,

In my heart is a girl who

Waltzes to the beat

Of the thrum, who

Surrounds herself with millions

Of fairy lights that

Twinkle with the stars, and

I speak, you speak.

Together we share the emotions we’re feeling.

Giving and taking that wonderful thing called Empathy.

Together.

We speak our minds, cry together.

Share our fears, our thoughts, our feelings.