“Me either. Dad would be disappointed in us. Oh.
I lie back. I can feel the grass poking through my
I found the Little Dipper. There. Dad would be happy.”
shirt. It tickles the back of my legs, rubbing against my
“Are you worried It will come back?” Treesa asks.
sunburn. I can smell the green. It smells like life. It’s
“Every fucking day,” I answer, rubbing my thumb
growth and change and rot.
over the path burned into the back of my hand. “Me too,” she says.
We watch the sky for falling stars. I can hear my sister breathing.
This, that, is why I love her. She asks questions no
Tonight is a good night.
one else has the courage to ask and actually wants to
For now, that’s enough.
hear my answers, my fucked up, complicated answers, not the ‘cherish every sunrise as a gift from god’ crap
//
other people are looking for.
NÔHKOM TIPISKAW PISIME BY MEGHAN EAKER i scream to the moon that my body is not a fraction she embraces me she never made me prove i was enough before she offered her love
A Voices from the FOLD: Year 7 original poem. 13
