I wrote this when I was in middle school. Ha.

I remember

when I loved to write cheerfully vivid stories on

bright blue notebook paper.

As a child I loved to swim and eat

cherry popsicles.

I lived through big brothers,

school bullies,

shattered confidence,

and stolen best friends.

At thirteen I'm small, and scared sometimes

with braces.

I’m still growing.

Sometimes a good cry feels good.

I don't sing or paint anymore.

I play sports and dream of writing again.

I cherish my friends, but don't fully trust.

Plans,

I have these.

I hope for hope

and pray for faith.

And wish I wouldn't fall down so much.

The braces come off soon.

The door marks my inches.

I think I'll dig around for that notebook paper when I get home.