Everything is dark outside
Save for dots of stars far overhead.
Our room is dark as well,
But beams of flashlights pierce the night.
The window is open
And a hot, fresh breeze leaks through.
We talk in whispers,
Not wanting to wake up our parents.
We giggle quietly over a joke we share,
And I read you a story.
You tell me one you make yourself.
We share candy
And secrets.
You tell me about your crush at school,
And I tell you about my new friend.
It is summer, and we have
No care in the world
Besides each other.
It is four in the morning, and we share
Sweet moments together
In the dark.
YOU ARE READING
Art Will Survive, Artists Won't
PoetryThis book is a compilation of free-form poetry that I've written. Most of it is pretty personal, but I hope you'll like it regardless. POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: depression, self-harm, lgbtq+, suicidal thoughts
