bumblebea

Fifth grade in my school is when

one of the kindergartners is your

book buddy,

when we read to them every Friday morning,

and when we leave,

it's when we mourn

the loss of our little friend

I am just like her—

Trapped in a sea of white. 

My mind is just as frayed—

My heart just as sliced. 

By the glittering blades

That contrived all her words.

The letters of her thoughts,

No one would know this now 

From the way I suck up words 

Books done in one sleepless night 

It seems I've been reading my whole life 

But in third grade 

We're coming up on the end of the year 
and a new horizon soars closer every day. 

I don't want to leave this place, 
yet every day I long to be gone. 

She’s lived here 

     most of her life 

She never thought 

     that would change. 

Last summer

I tried to avoid school

but also

tried to get myself ready

for the big class

for the hard homework

the stuff that never ended up

being a problem.

Last summer