Kiiyuka

There is a girl four thousand miles from me who says her w’s as v’s and has drunk beer for far longer than I have though we’re the same age. She lives without lights or a stove; meanwhile, I drive a hundred minutes a day for eight hours of monotony, feeling holed up and cut off because it’s hard to think beyond your day-to-day. But I picture that girl sometimes—next to me under the stars, just as bewildered by my life as I am by hers, and just as ill at ease. We’ll talk and barely understand what the other is saying but then she’ll look up and I’ll look up and we’ll be united as

Admittedly, I was a rotten child. I liked to spend my time throwing rocks at stray dogs. No one ever bothered to stop me until the old voice in the alley. “Why are you throwing rocks at puppies?” It was an old man voice, deep and gravelly, so I didn’t stop. “Because I want to, old man,” I retorted and tried to sound mean. There was no warning before I heard a yelp and felt dirt under my shoulders. I tumbled over and realized the yelp had come from me. I lay on the ground and listened to my heart beat. That old man had pushed me down, and now he would pay. “You asked for it!” I yelled and grabbed the first

She's tired. And I'm afraid she won't wake up tomorrow. And I know I have no right to be, but I'm worried.  I'm scared. I'm scared for a girl halfway across the world with a heart made of glass and razors for veins. I'm afraid she's falling from a tightrope and doesn't want to be caught. The gravity of her thoughts is crushing her to bits and has left her more broken than the mirror she can't stand to look in. I wanna chase away the Nightmares in her eyes, but good Dreams aren't enough to fix this.  Heck, I don't know what to do either. cuz I feel the same way. And maybe it makes me a hypocrite for wanting to help someone, when I c

As I trot atop the gaining layers of snow I find myself meeting the constant gaze of the travelling stars. Though all stars gazes lie upon me, only one do I meet that glare with. It's parts and pieces old and new, dim and bright, dead and live. The unspeakably intricate design in which it weaves is what reminds those that have forgotten; tomorrow is a hope, never a promise.

One step, Two, Three And four. We all start walking, and move out the door. First a small crawl, then a waddle, but give me time, before I walk out the door. One        Two                Three                           Four At first it starts small, before you walk, you fall down, but you must get back up again. This just the start of many trials. One        Two                Three                           Four Time moves quickly, waiting for no one. It will leave you behind, unless you run. So I did. I ran for as fast as I could, living high on a flat plain, until I tripped and went crashing down. Four         Three            

The teacher had us introduce ourselves to the class, The first day of middle school seemed so mundane. And then it was your turn, You sure stood out when you stood up. It was because of that red jacket you wore, And your fiery disposition. The three questions were "Name", "Age", and "Dreams". I couldn't quite catch the other two, but the last one, everyone did. You proudly declared, like a little kid, that "I want to become a  hero !" And everyone collectively stifled their giggles. How embarrassing, you idiot,  I thought, I rolled my eyes to the left, with the most audible sigh. You turned towards the back, your eyes on mine, we locked

Girls Girlsgirls G  i  r  l  s. I can roll the word around on my tongue like a fine wine, or at least like that Mike’s you gave me last Fourth of July: muggy, sticky skirt clinging to the hood of my car, swishing that godawful taste in my mouth: lemon and beer together. I lay here and live here in the breath of one moment: in the fireflies, in Kanye, in you, all colored-on by the sky. I am a damn hungry flame, and every soft curve is my Catholic hymn. I think I love every girl I ever met. Now I understand when the boys say girl-crazy; I’m love-drunk and sapphic-stained, a bouquet of violets with nothing but perfume, not one thor

We are wrapped in black velvet, ever-speeding through vacuums and voids, a fierce, vibrant speck in a star-flecked sky. We keep swallowing life and forgetting it lived. My sister plays with my hair and whispers, "I think none of this matters." Yet—I am still waltzing with my wide-eyed inner child, hope-drunk and giddy in an astral playground. As for me, I know I am a new constellation waiting for the right astronomer to connect the dots.

She was gorgeous. Even as anger was spicing up her voice and tainting her tone cold, he could find beauty in it. Her fierece and reckless nature had always amazed him. Yeah, it wasn't always good but she had shown over and over again that it was exactly what drove her into helping her friends and being so loyal. He was one of her friends, he thought of it as one of the biggest as well as the only accomplishments in his life. But then darkness clouded his mind. He knew that's all he'd ever be, a friend. He chased the thought of the unavoidable fact away and looked at her again. She had such pretty eyes. Dark blue, like an ocean. The more he s