oh, don’t worry, you’ll find them.
you’ll know them by the stitch
in your side, bent over shaking with
laughter,
the day you miss the bin and
the carton sails straight
into some poor, unsuspecting soul.
you’ll know them by their side-eye,
that single-second, inside joke—
hair-braiding, thumb wars,
secrets whispered in the dark.
and one day, a boy will break
your heart but they will roast that boy
like a marshmallow over a fire.
you’ll know them by the
unbreakability
of a pinky promise,
by the knee-****, camera-flash joy.
you’ll know on the nights so late
that even taco bell is closed,
by the three-hundred bad pictures
of you on their phones.
it’s sticky leather seats in the summer,
all mess and love and side-by-side.
and when four years are past,
caps tipped, turned, and tossed
and you’re standing in a football field with
a runny nose and wet-streaked cheeks,
you’ll know them by the way it
aches
to wave goodbye, to go home because
you’re not 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 home at all—
you just left it.

Dear Ela

    I wish I could put into words
    The way you made me feel—
    Loved and worthy, proud and strong.
    You helped my heart to heal

    So many times you held my hand,
    So many times I fell.
    So many days I’ll miss your voice
    When we’ve finished this farewell

    Thank you for all that you’ve done
    For choir (and for me)
    I wish you success, good health too
    And that you’ll be happy

With love, that one junior who always cries :P

I have officially graduated
I thought I feel a change
after it happened
but I feel the same
nothing feels different
I was more excited about it
than I thought I would
I stood in line
in a hot gown
I walked across that stage
in front of all those people
filling up the gymnasium
I got my diploma
and walked out that school
as a graduate
my highlight was
I got to hug my favorite teacher
and express how much he did for me
and how grateful I am for him
he saved my life
and kept me in school
I cannot express
how much he helped me
and kept me going

Our caps flew like confetti.
Thank god I customized mine.
I'll keep it as a memento of all-nighters,
friendships formed in the academic trenches,
dismissive professors and group-project-tortures.

This isn’t another ‘drunk girl’ holiday, despite obvious similarities.
Our parents, sisters, brothers, and grandmothers are here.

We came in doe-eyed, holding overpriced planners,
and enough provisions for two year Mars missions.
We hoped to discover friends, decent Wi-Fi signals
and perhaps our adult selves.

Now we're holding diplomas, those future-proofing talismans.
Mine’s in molecular biophysics and biochemistry.
Which is wry, because when I was in high school,
my sister accused me of not knowing how to boil water.

I've been asked "What’s next?" a thousand times in the last month.
I have plans—but I was dying to shrug and say, “that’s tomorrow’s problem,” like I’ve spent major duckets, degree wise, but remain the ditzy blonde.
The standard graduate answer, I’ve heard, is "I dunno."
(though honestly, it’s a great answer).

Congratulations, all of you graduating overachievers out there—everywhere.
Go forth, be fabulous and find that next big dream.
Can you believe we actually did this?
Argh! I gotta go, someone wants another picture.
.
.
Songs for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Summer Wind by Robert Mosci
Tomorrow by Wings

I'm counting down the days
just get through this week
and I will be free
free from this school
I will walk across the stage
and never look back
just get to Friday
and all the classes will be over
at this wretched school

When did time become cruel
Stealing moments away
As the years clock out your youth,

Every bird flies away from the nest
Every cub becomes a bear,
When the rivers run quick
Don’t be afraid to swim the currents
And find where you fit in.

If wishing wells were real
I’d pour my wealth into the bottom.
I’d wish to go back to the time that we lost
Watching you blossom from just a wee bud
Give you all that I knew at the cost
Knowing some truths hurts more than fiction.

Remembering when you couldn’t stand tall
And the smallest little smirk when you walked vs crawl
Seeing the way you made sense of this all
Like the world was a puzzle you always knew how to solve
And now that you’re here I can’t shake this off
A fear that you’ll never need me again and I fall
Down to my knees and pray that you know.:

I love you, my little bean

And should you ever call
If ever in need —
I can be your shield and armor
Need a sword, I’ll be there and nothing can harm us
Swing for the head and we’ll **** this hydra
I’ll be there to be a prop if you need to stand taller.

Together, maybe we can slow down time,
But no matter the weather, I’ll be there rain or shine
If no one says it, then I’ll yell it louder.
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!
My beloved daughter.

My average means I don’t have to take final exams.
So my bachelor's degree is a finished product.
I cranked it out, all that’s left now is the walk (May 18th).
Let’s call it my nearly forgotten masterpiece.
My schedule says that I start a 1-year ‘master of public health’ degree in 38 days.

It was my mom’s idea. She said, “You need to keep active” (pre- med-school).
It sounds crazier to me now than it did last year, when I was accepted and agreed.
Now, I feel like some chary, aging showgirl who’s about to be hustled back on-stage.
But what’s life without massive compromise?
Anyway, don’t cry for me. I’m still sizing it all up, I’ll figure it out.

I suppose we’re all out there hustling.
It’s our response to slowing med-school admissions,
those glitches in the medical, industrial education complex
or that’s how the narrative’s shaped, anyway.
It’s not the additional work that bothers me, I’m regular worker bee,

It’s the perma-threat of loneliness.
I’m already packing. Leaving feels real
and I'm surfing this maudlin wave tonight—shading deep blue.
The simple march of time will take away friends I’ve grown to love.
We’ve allegorised and transformed one another by proximity.

I’ve really loved it here.
.
.
Songs for this:
Graduation (Friends Forever) by Vitamin C
Graduation Day by Tony Rivers & The Castaways

I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.

It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.

Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.

In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone

the day is nearing close and closer
the day I wear my cap and gown
and walk down the stage
and get handed my diploma
the day I no longer attend high school
the day I leave this town behind
to start my new life
and new beginnings