Popcorn

I have a long page on the notes app dedicated to my Incomplete poems

And Google Docs full of recent Incomplete stories

Old notebooks filled with Incomplete songs

And yet older stories from my childhood

The gentle sway of trees in the wind, golden locks of hair blowing in the breeze

Syncing with the cattails in the shallows

This is what peace is.

her hands are chapped and raw from anxiously 

peeling away her skin

so she goes through every fidget she can find

and wears them down until they break.

her lips and nose are red and cracked

#1. A Sister's Lament

Don’t tell me you didn’t know

that the shirt you’re wearing is mine

and then treat me like the bad guy

when I say “take it off” and you say

I don't want alot in life

And I know I'm really young

But I often wish for something more

I wish for a first love

And I know that highschool romance 

Is no more than cliche