Reid@YWP

smoke bleeds through the sky like marker does to paper

tearing, thrashing. 

breaking, bashing. 

the birds are sad.

it's hard to catch the people undistracted,

but they too are sad.

I heard from a guy who told somebody

Bout the deserts dry

And the forests muddy

But they forgot to tell bout the rainy skies

every time the

re is uncertain

ty in my life, i 

am extremely 

calm, because 

i know that w

hen it is resol

ved, i will feel h

appy or sad and 

either way, i will 

Sometimes words fall out senselessly,

no meaning attached.

But because they need to,

not necessarily because

they want to be revealed.

It's as if my pen

has control over me,

writing whatever comes

was it easy for you to love 

me? i’m not asking about the good days, i’m asking about 

the whole time period in which i 

was allowed in your life. 

was i easy to love? but please, 

A story you're told about once every year,

Details increase as you're judged old enough.

Then one year it stops, the story as sparse as it can be,