Reid@YWP

These days I sip 

on the light from the window. 

Sometimes the walls are dark, and they swallow 

it up, and there's none left to reach me 

oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.

why do we always pay the price for love?

Orpheus, lonesome poet, 
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it.

It's quiet. Just the rumbling of the car. My friend is asleep next to me, their head on my shoulder. I open the windows. The breeze is nice and cool and rustles my hair. As soon as the window is open, it reveals the sound of crickets.

One day before the test, and my nerves start to fizzle.

I need to study all I can to make up for the days that I was never in class and never learned anything; Make up for my stupidity and procrastination.

I won’t even attempt to write a poem about music- poems aren’t me. I’ve never been good at writing them. But a block of text doesn’t look as pretty. It really just looks like a rant. And I guess, that’s what it is.