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Soapy Heels (Somewhere in the Golden West) This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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“Get up,” you insisted.
“There's a Diem to be Carpe'd.”
Your eyes glittered through
your hair, like the garden:
overgrown, forgotten,
pillow flattened and
beautiful.
You stomped out,
determinedly imploring
Why not?

I didn't mind;

Still, it was after, to the
vacant house I whispered,
Go where you please

see things I haven't seen;
wring Apathy's neck and take the
supporting hand Courage offers
as you taste the world
and its Seven Wonders;

I don't mind.

Get in late and dog-tired,
Grass stains
on the bottoms of your feet.
Tell me how Freedom feels:
like sand sifted through
your fingers;

I don't mind.

Because I've seen the Eighth Wonder
as the bed shakes
from your laughter,
telling stories made of smoke.
I will always remember the
way we are
now.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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