J_Kramer

A POEM BY MY SISTER <3:

dew drips from a leaf

a leaf that a little caterpillar walks on

it will soon be transformed

into a majestic pollinator

its climbs to a branch on a small tree

When I clear my mind 

I just push you down deeper

into my core

until I just can't tell the difference

between thinking you and feeling you

now you have become part of me

and I'm tired of falling

I lived in a world where outer beauty is the only kind that people see. I’d rather observe it from a rocking chair at the library back home, bearing down on an incredibly scripted work of art.

I’m four years old and it’s pumpkin season again. 

I’m holding tightly to my best friend’s mittened hand 

and feeling the wind whipping at my face, 

turning the tip of my nose pink, 

I'm deeply, truly, purely 

happy 

It cannot be described. Not exactly. But it feels like this. 

It's as if all my life, I've been down somewhere dark, somewhere which I had grown accustomed. 

I balance on the ledge of my window, up 31 floors, back pressed firmly against the side. 

Sometimes, I will look below, and watch. 

And sometimes, it helps.