At Times

energy

sometimes i let myself believe i could be an extrovert

i woke up this morning with so many spoons

i replied to texts on time

i replied to texts

instead of just reading or liking or hearting or saying i would get to them later

and then my best friend

(don't get me wrong

i love him

i do)

threw me a surprise party

and when i got home

all i could do was scroll

and now im going to bed

because i have no more energy

introvert, after all

time wasnt right

there is dust

in my childhood bedroom

cobwebs span the corners

reaching out

to touch

the abandoned walls

everything is covered in dust

my books

my floor

my collections, long since abandoned

touch anything and you'll

come away

with gray residue

reminiscent of a life once lived

only

i am still here

living

right?

or am i, too

covered in dust

a relic

of a former girl

this isnt how life is supposed to be

you’re not alone in the universe. at the very least, you have libraries, flowers, strawberries, poetry, stars, and the moon.

Nectar

wasted hours chasing childhood dreams

my teen ambition devouring me whole

all the pointless tears, the pointless delusions

maybe I’m not special

perhaps my personality is disordered

that’s what they say anyway

romeo

"i don't even like her anymore" i say

"i'm completely, 100% over her"

but

sometimes

when i let myself glance at her

i understand how romeo felt

shouting at that balcony

i told them i love them

for the first time today

and i half expected their

response to be, "i know."

i have said it in

a thousand ways already.

my love, for you i will learn

to say it in a million more.

—mars

bitter without the sweet

you are the aftertaste of what

could've been a sweet memory,

and i think i’m the only one who 

still savors every sweet moment 

despite the acrid words you left me with.

~K.T.

girlhood

glitter on my face

and tinsel in my hair

bubblegum pink nails

"you look so beautiful" they say

screaming the words to my favorite songs with 70,000 other people

this is my girlhood

baggy t-shirts and short shorts

waking up at noon to texts that say "good morning ☀️

it's time for bed and she says she loves me

the glitter has been washed off

but i still feel sparkly

this is my girlhood

wendy by maisie peters

and castles crumbling by taylor swift

an intense longing to feel something

im not sure what it is

i have stopped caring about everything else,

i think,

but i could never stop caring about you

feminine rage

i was 11

crying over the loss of a friend

"boys and girls are just different" my mom told me

was it helpful or trivializing

i'm still not sure

i was 12

they told us something like 1 in 4 girls are assaulted

we looked around the room

wondering who it might be

terrified of the answer

they told us what the men are looking for

our eyes turned on ourselves

we didn't want to make ourselves more of a target

i was 13

during a self-defense class at church

we learned how to hit, how to kick

how to pop a man's eyes out of his head

barely a teenager

and they told me to hit the dummy like i really meant it

i was 13

ruth bader ginsburg died, and i cried

i rarely cried over anything then

but i cried over her

trump was already trying to replace her that night

i was 14

sitting in the front of the car

while my brothers in the back

made a joke about sexual assault

i wanted to scream at them

but i didn't

i was 14

we were working on a story about the dress code

one of the girls mentioned

that it hadn't mattered what she was wearing

my heart broke

i was 15

i watched as they stripped my right to my body

as people around me celebrated

what happened to my choice

a boy asked me to stop talking about it

for the girls in our class to stop using dark humor

as our only coping mechanism

said it made him uncomfortable

he still has all his rights

i am 16

a friend calls while she is running

just to feel safer

i have to explain to the boys in the room

that she didnt want to talk

she wanted to not be a target

i am 16

my brother says that sometimes

women are so annoying

he just wants to shoot them

i'm not sure he doesn't mean it

i am 16

"it must be his time of the month"

one boy jokes about another acting irrationally

it isn't funny

but i sit in silence anyways

i don't want to be accused of being emotional, too

i am 16

"men's lives are more challenging" he argues

he ignores every point we make

he was never going to listen

but we still try, desperately

finally our teacher shuts us down

i want to yell or cry or do anything to release the rage bottling up inside

the rage that runs through my veins

all of our veins

when they belittle us and take away our rights and make us feel weak

and we let them

because it's all they ever taught us to do