Reid@YWP

in the halls, we lean against the bulletin boards

and whisper of the latest news, last night's breaking, articles snagged

in the moments before leaving for school. lots of adults

think we are too young to understand

All skin

Is made up of the same cells,

All eyes

Reflect the same stars,

All lips

Dance around the same meaning,

And even if they don’t work,

All hearts

Are connected by the same strings;

They're obsessed with social media and two-second dating

we talk about climate change and ski racing

they'll talk about what they're supposed to

we'll talk about the world's problems and what to do

Home is where you dream. Where your ideas come to life. A rhythm of thoughts making themselves known, untangled. 

Cold, bitten, waiting at the door

Rain like the universe’s tears streaming down his cheeks

He knows rejection—it's known him from the start

You see, forgiveness is his revenge on himself

Mountains like monuments waiting