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Combat Boots This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

I am old combat boots with dirt in the seams,
I am reading in bed till the clock ticks to 3:00,
I am the scratch of a pen leaving ink on a page,
I am the smell of a book left musty with age,
I am wind tangled hair with snarls and knots,
I am past midnight musings on all that I’m not,
I am whispered songs sung as an absent escape,
I am galaxies colliding in the blankness of space,
I am everything and nothing, the light and the dark,
I am shattering failure and hitting the mark,
I am vibrancy and monotone, anger met with love,
I am a heart set in the ground, a head far up above,
I am not artwork to be judged on a scale,
I am not defined by the times that I fail,
I am not a piece in your chaotic game,
I am not the kind of fire that you can contain,
I am a poet, a writer, a dreamer of dreams,
I am old combat boots with dirt in the seams.

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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