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There are four days now until I leave.
It's unbelievable;
surreal, honestly.
Typically I hate leaving the warm cocoon of home,
where life is predictable--
normal
good.
But life,
I am sorry to say,
is never
not ever

We run out of the auditorium
screaming, shrieking,
finally free.

We walk through the woods
to the pond
near our school
where we will spend
the last day of sixth grade.
(Though hasn't it been summer for weeks already?)

Hearts are tricky things.

They beat,
they break,
they shatter to bits
if you are not careful.
Hearts should come
in a package that says
Fragile
Handle with care
in yellow tape on the outside.

I am the person
who cowers in corners
hides behind
the what-ifs and could-have-beens
because she is afraid.
I am the person
whose shout is merely a whisper,
whose footsteps leave no imprint on the ground.
I am the person

Sunlight dances
across the leaf-covered ground
as we step into the woods
tucked away behind my school.
The trees,
once stark and bare,
now burst with brilliant green.
A light breeze ruffles my hair,
and I know

I walk through my garden in the chilly night air. Shivering, I look longingly back towards my house, wishing I could just grab a cardigan from my room and be done with it.