Leaves

I wrote this about 5 minutes ago, so apologies if it’s bad.

Leaves

Skeleton leaves, tossed around on bare
stony, concrete.
They started out as life wrapped in shells,
before breaking out from the warmth.
Clawing their way to the light, for hands to pull their tired feet from the ground.
Though covered in white jackets,
or losing their hair every year,
the minutes, seconds add up to
thicker skin, rougher.

But my skin remains uncalloused,
exposed to meteors of needles and strings.

Even with my face against the window blowing shivers through my body,
the trees know me, more than you’ll ever
because they are here, and in your place are cold leaves on concrete.

Winter

Something I wrote during a creative writing class back in high school… so lower your expectations! This is something I came across just not that made me realize how far I’ve come as a writer. Thank god.

Winter

As the snow falls,
I’m reminded that another year is almost over.
I sit by the window,
watching as each individual flake
falls outside.
The weatherman says it’ll snow quite a bit
I think about winter,
about not having school;
We are like snowflakes; each different
from all the rest, floating freely in
the air. We land on the ground and
then poof!… we melt. We’re dead.
To me, winter reminds me
that our time is almost done.