in orchards of lemon trees we tiptoe, under the hanging yellow fruit in blue moonlight, we will stay until orange light leads us inside
in orchards of lemon trees we giggle at your pinched sour face as you taste the bitterness from the tip of your tongue trailing back to your throat
I am from hard worn leather beneath my feet. Watching my second home from my favorite place, 4 feet above the ground. From sounds of gymnastics filling my ears to a layer of chalk and sweat that coats everything from my legs to the inside of my throat It chokes me and tastes thick, and starchy wi
You make me so happy Why can’t you see Just how much I love you Your best friend
It’s so hard for me Not to tell you how I feel Even though I know you feel it too I can see it in your eyes Every time you’re with me If only you weren’t with her She’s changing you
Different: not the same as another. My “friends” and I, we’re different from each other. They are cool; I am not. I am lame; they are hot. Even when they’re wrong, people think they’re right. They like the day; I like the night. I always lose; they always win. I stick out; they blend in. Normal..
The dictionary defines a “friend” as “a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.” So are they homework answers? Project partners? A list of names? None of the above. New definition: The recipients of ridiculous selfies that probably shouldn’t have seen the light of