they all know now,
because you wrote it
on my binder.
i could have gotten a new binder
you could have kept
from writing on the one i have.
and now that i know
that they know
i laugh along and say,
there goes that.”
but in my head, i think,
i wish they didn’t know.
it was just between
me and you,
like i wanted it to be
when i told you my secret.
as the great actress i am,
because at least one of us is a good friend.
and the thing is,
my secret isn’t even true anymore.
and no, that won’t make it better.
and no, you can’t
Today (Tuesday, May 8th) is my birthday! I wrote a poem about how I feel about growing up–when children become adolescents.
i remember those good old days
in my backyard, counting the stars
two cups of homemade lemonade
promising someday it’ll all be ours
skipping stones on the stream by your house
then we scream cuz we’re up to out knees
yours would always splash and we’d count
the ripples we thought went infinitely
but now we’re doing big kid things
siting inside in the peak of spring
wanting dragon tattoos or a nose piercing
and love means more than diamond rings
and lakes aren’t for paper boats
and songs do much more than rhyme
and fear goes far beyond ghosts
and what we spend with our friends isn’t time
if i could go through life once more than once
i’d dwindle my days away being young