Reid@YWP

What a shame-

that our world shows us such kindness,

and we turn around and stab her in the back.

We don't deserve her.

Traitors: that's what we are,

to overlook the life she brings

Nighttime: 

My eyes drooping.

The night sky, black as paint.

The nocturnal still venture out in 

these ungodly hours. 

“What happens beyond life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, after we die.”

“Well the point is that we don’t know.” 

“But what do you think will happen?”

Author's note: I recently found out that a school that I loved sold their camp in the Adirondacks, where I have many fond memories. This grief inspired some writing, which I have posted below. 

This was inspired by Alice Duer Miller's "Are Women People"

“Alice, what is special?”

“Specialty is difference.”

“The difference of what?”