The ground changed color overnight. What was once green is now white. The trees changed, too. The bark is almost striped; the brown is trying to break through its white covering. And the snow is still falling. Light reflects off the tiny crystals that we know are everywhere but cannot see. Flakes pour from an angel-white sky. The world is in a white-out. The neighborhood children have never seemed so happy to only see one color. Carrot sticks are salvaged and old scarves are thrown around freshly made snowmen. A little girl sits on her father's lap as their sled slides down the *****. The kids down the street are having a snowball fight. Each handful of snow delivers a chill that deepens as it moves from skin to spine, but they don't mind. In this picture-perfect snow globe, white is wonderful.

Watch the snowflakes fall
Catch them on your tiny tongue
Winter has begun.

Steady…tip left. Get back up. Steady…lean right, lean left, fall right. See blood. Cry out. Wait for mom and dad to run over (they are watching from a distance). Put band-aid on knee. Wish it would’ve been a Transformers one. Get back up. Ask for dad for help. Cry when he says you can do it yourself. Make him promise not to let go of the back of the seat. Left foot on pedal, push off with right. Last-second check to make sure dad is still there (he is). Steady. Steady. Steady. Look left. The grass is incredibly green this summer. Look right. The neighbors have an adorable puppy. Steady.  Steady. Steady. Stop at the end of the street (left foot on pedal, right on ground). Turn around. See dad standing at opposite end. See him give thumbs up. He lied. Hear mom cheer. He lied. Smile…because he lied.

Feel the summer breeze
Pride rushing through every vein
Sometimes lies are good

Thunder rattles the ground beneath us and lightning illuminates the sky in a supernova. We are hiking; this storm is unexpected. My fear must radiate through me, because you keep glancing over at me, brow creased. Rain begins to pour, and the droplets trickle down the my face. It is humid and we are swimming in air. I cannot help but jump at each crack of thunder.
Though I am afraid
I will brave this storm with you
I will not break down
We stumble upon a creek that, if crossed, could spare us a few nature-soaked minutes. Tentatively, I stick a flip-flop foot into the water – it is freezing. I recoil in surprise. You spot something in the distance – what is it? You let go of my hand and jog to it. Running, you’re running now, back to me, with a wooden plank in hand. It cannot be a coincidence that it is the same width as the creek. But you did not know about this storm…I choose not to worry about it. Your shoes are instantly soaked with creek water, and mine are dry as I tightrope-walk across the water. We continue walking. Your car is in the distance. You are still holding my hand. You are enchanting.
Your soaked tennis shoes
Match my flip-flop harmony
Could this be true love?

Twisted in the way her pride
Brings her down because she can feel
Them glaring, those envious eyes

At a paper she wishes weren’t real
At a feat she should not be ashamed of
At a number so many are wishing to steal

Melancholy in the way she crumples and shoves
Her A+ in the trash on the way out the door;
If she keeps it, she’s sticking up her nose

Because pride is a sin and nothing more;
Hard Work is the devil’s ally,
And Guilt builds his home in her core.

She was given a gift, and now she cries
She was deemed a monster, so now she’ll lie.

Pain in the way the multitude of red marks
On her paper resemble streaks of blood
From the wounds to her fragile heart

A wave of nausea; no wait, a flood
Of everything she’s felt thus far;
Cruelty has crushed a blooming bud.

Tear-stained wishes on a shooting star
To rip away her intelligence;
She’d rather have an ugly scar

She never befriended Arrogance
But somehow her life went awry;
All she wanted was another chance.

She hides her gift, but she still cries
Because she was forced to live a lie.

Cue the ever-prominent darkness;
Wake up in night, and feel the chill
Of snow and of stress
Resting on the window sill.
Feel it all around you;
This giant contradiction
Of happiness and tears.
You never spoke, but always knew
Of the below-zero affliction
That covered you in frost each year.

Cue the endless strings of lights;
Let the trees and houses glow
But it’s all an effort to block out night;
This you hate, but this you know.
Fear of midnight skies only rises
When snowflakes start to fall
And time seems to slip away;
We get by with our harmless disguises,
Forcing our minds away from it all
Until we wake to the light of day.


Cue the tray of hot cocoa;
Pair it with a candy cane
The warmth is sweet, but it is faux
And the mint walks you down memory lane.
But you don’t want to remember
No, you don’t want to relive innocence
You can’t go back to your Santa Claus days
For you want to love December;
You live the month with wistfulness,
But you cannot ignore the pain.

I suppose this is the part where tears fall
From my eyes in rapid unison
But I find myself feeling nothing at all

As I’m watching the rising autumn sun
Memories take over like high tide
In the race to grow up, who really won?

Six years old, mama’s mascara on her eyes
Wishing she could fit into her heels,
But still running to her when she cries

You think you know how it feels
To be grown up when you’re left alone
For a weekend; but that’s not being on your own.

I want to go home.
Someone please take me home.

Jets roar in the distance and I wonder
If this is what it feels like
To enter calm water, only to be pulled under

And I know it shouldn’t feel right
Leaving the past eighteen years
At this terminal in the early daylight

But still, there are no tears;
Only distant memories
And resurfacing fears

Fifteen years old and simply needing
To be able to drive on my own;
My eyes may be dry, but they are pleading:

I want to go home.
Someone please take me home.

Alone in her room, she writes feverishly,
Fueled by adoration:
“I love you because you fear
The very thing that will unite us;
I’ll remember you, even in oblivion.”
Alone in her thoughts, the moon rises
With her chest as she takes deep breaths
As she smears the ink, the liquid words that read:
“Can you feel my heartbeats
In the indentations of this letter?”

She begs him to remember,
To try and picture their first date;
She says, “I know it’s hard right now,
But you are stronger than the things
That have ever dared to bring you down.”
She begs him to recall
Sitting in a coffee shop somewhere
In the heart of a beautiful fall
And if he wakes up, she wonders,
“Will he remember me at all?”

This letter is not about her,
Though her scent engulfs the page;
No, this was never about her,
Though she wants him to remember her name
When he wakes from someone else’s mistake
And if the sound of her voice
Is not enough to provoke
Even the simplest memory of their love,
She prays through tears that her
Ink-stained words will be enough.