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| ok so. these are from my first notebook, the one with the unicorn on it (i KNOW). i almost deleted them but my english teacher says you should keep your old stuff so you can see how far you've come. so here is how far i've come. be nice. |
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march 1998 the rain falls softly on my heart like teardrops from above. i wonder if the sky is sad because it lost its love. i wonder if the clouds are gray because they're lonely too, and if the sun will come again and if my dreams come true. (ok. OK. i was fourteen. i rhymed "too" and "true" and thought i was emily dickinson. i'm leaving it up to remember where i came from.) july 1998 grandma's kitchen smells like coffee and the yellow soap, and the radio is always on low like it's telling secrets to the toaster. she calls me sweet pea even though i'm taller than her now. i let her. (this is still one of my favorites. grandma has it on her fridge. she printed it out at the library all by herself.) december 1998 the windows fog up by the second stop and everybody draws on them. hearts, initials, a smiley face, a boy in the back wrote a bad word and the driver saw it in the mirror and didn't even say anything, just sighed like our breath was the whole problem. i drew a little door and wished i could open it. by the time we got there it had melted into everything else. |