Reid@YWP

A month in the mountains. By yourself. What if someone comes to your camp? What if a bear attacks you? All these thoughts flooded her head as she pulled up to the bottom of the mountain. No buildings, all trees.

I wish I could tell you this is poetry;
Imperfect but acceptable, art, expression, understanding, the solution to some question i could not answer otherwise,

those who will come next 
should cherish the time they get 
for the minutes move faster 
closer to the end 

I’ve been told I’m not worth it
 

Am I really going to listen to the words of

Monsters who can’t see that I’m a human

I only ever came here for the fortune cookies 

I don't know if you can tell 

when I stare at the menu 

under shiny plastic with a red rim 

when I glance 

we can run fast  
run forever 
until we lose ourselves 
our spirit 
but it doesn't matter 

as we sit in the grass 
and breathe in 
as the air grows sweet