Reid@YWP

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.

Under the green jungle crown 

you silently go, 

Shimmers of light pattering 

down onto your soft, worn skin.