Coco

 “It was her fault

She was wearing that skirt

Practically asking for it”

No

No she wasn’t

She was 15 years old

I would weave in the tears of a mermaid, the breath of my love, and the drop of the ocean

When you are old

Your skin will become like paper,

And your bones will be like the wooden ribs

Of a lantern

So that the world will see the light in your chest.

But I don't need to wait

They said to think about who you are 

And who you want to be 

After camp 

And I thought 

What if I don’t know 

The changes I want to happen to me? 

What if change