Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Young child,

Young child,
Why do you not scream
Why do you sit as an old soul, waiting in a quiet chair on a proud porch
waiting for some warmth, maybe a flock of children laughing, they still make you smile,
They still have their innocence

Young girl, you see through eyes that know death
How do you still smile at life
Why can you sit there in a tree and listen and hear more love than two lovebirds can sing
Oh, how well you understand that strange solitary individualism that is irrelevant to me
Where, young one, did you learn the ins and outs of our vaulting sky and sinking sea

Small girl,
Are you not afraid
Of ozone Or of falling from that tree
Of melting Or of feeling death pain and stab your every pore and never ever bring you to that promised peace
Oh, do you not fear the loneliness the consumes me

Little girl,
We were once one
Then you got a little older and you bled
Nothing has been the same since then
And I’ll cry for you
But you just sit and laugh because you’re an old woman
You’re a child
And every step is a detour
Farther from the same and closer to the same
I wish it had not changed
But I walk to you young girl,
For even though you left
Somewhere buried inside me,
you remain



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