A Place Behind the Hills

There is a place behind the hills,

behind the deep-dark forests and rocky roads,

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where the trees are bright and the flowers purple.

There, storms are a pleasant breeze,

and the lakes are so clear you can see all the happy fish.

There, the sun rises at 5:30 every morning

and goes to set when you’re ready.

There, there are no downsides,

except for the cows’ bellies that swing as they walk.

But, to get there, you’ll need to run.

You’ll need to hike and climb and swim,

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but most importantly, you’ll need to run.

There are tall monsters and mean witches

waiting for you to stop and catch your breath,

waiting to hold you by your legs and arms

and never let you go.

So don’t catch your breath, not now.

Now is not the time, but the time will come.

Now, you must run past the monsters and witches,

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through the forests and along the rocky roads,

past the dark shadows that are hunting beside you.

But then, believe me,

there is a place behind the hills,

where the trees are bright and the flowers purple.

Where the only shadows will be of the lazy cows in the sunset.

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Coffee

I like coffee now. I used to always think it tasted like fancy dirt water, no matter how much milk and sugar I’d put in it.

But, I really like it now. I like the deep, bitter taste of it and I especially like the smell of it.

I’m starting to like a lot of those things that I used to consider “adult things”. I like watching the news or reading articles on whether or not organic eggs are better than regular eggs. I like having red wine with my dinner (only when I’m in Germany, I promise). I like waking up early on the weekends, to get as much out of my day as possible, and even take in a pastel sunrise once in a while.

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I guess I’ve waited for this period in my life for a long time now. I always imagined that when I’d graduate, I’d essentially be an adult. I’d be mature and responsible. I’d be a little taller at least and my skin would have cleared up and I would know how to do taxes.

Truth is, I’m still getting there. Maybe I won’t grow any taller and maybe I’ll need to work on my maturity a bit, but I’m on the right track. I’m transitioning, I guess.

All this is what I’ve been waiting for, and it’s exciting. But, I like coffee now and it makes me sad, because I realize that, soon, I won’t be able to be a kid anymore.

That Time of the Year

It’s that time of the year again! High school seniors all over the country are in the midst of getting their long-awaited college acceptances and those dreaded denials, getting excited about their future and freaking out about tuitions. The only difference is that, this year, I am one of them.

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I remember when I was a sophomore and I watched my roommate, a senior at the time, go through all that stress and she said something along the lines of “believe me, all this will sneak up on you sooner than you’d think.” I thought to myself: that’s what they always say, I’ll have time. Two years are a long time. But, hell, I was wrong!

Now it’s that time of the year and now I am the one pathetically refreshing my email and checking my mail box, hoping to be admitted into at least a safe school. I’ve gotten into two schools so far, but neither of them are my top choice. I don’t even have a top choice anymore, to be honest. I have no idea what country I even want to be in, let alone what school I want to spend my next four years at!

No matter what choice, I’ll be fine (probably). Nevertheless, wish me luck!

 

two love poems

It’s Inevitable, Isn’t It?

It’s inevitable, isn’t it?

The loneliness we all know

Too well to ignore.

Loneliness is a shadow

That follows the lovely moments,

The beautiful moments, the love.

We know both sides,

We know dark yields light,

But, just like that, we know love might

Be temporary just as all other things.

Temporary in the way it sings;

Temporary with its whizzing wings;

Temporary, because we know what wins.

What wins is not light, or day, or love,

Or night or dark, or loneliness.

What wins is the cycle

Of all we know,

All we love,

All we despise.

__________________________________________

Go. 

It still hurts, believe me.

You left me half a year ago,

You broke me then, you know?

I tried to hold you back,

Have you back, the way we were.

You didn’t.

You didn’t want that, you didn’t want me,

Didn’t want me in your life,

In your heart, in your camera roll, in your mind.

And see what you did?

See what I did?

I lost the mask I had put on your face all this time.

I began hating to hear your name all around,

I forgot how I ever loved you.

That’s the funny thing about love.

You never think it ends

When you’re its guest.

You think it will last forever and go on and go on and

Go.

Go, go and leave me and don’t remind me

Of what you gave me and took away,

What you promised and didn’t keep,

What you told me and meant with all your heart,

But what does that matter, if your heart has changed?

It still hurts, believe me.

Cutting you out of my memories,

Ignoring birthdays and anniversaries,

Seeing her.

But that’s the funny thing about love:

We are so willing to fall in love and fall on our hearts,

And we think it will go on and go on and

Go.

What if You Knew?

If only you knew.

I don’t know if it would change anything, I don’t even know if I would want it to. But from time to time, I find myself wondering: what if you knew?

Would I be the one wearing your jackets? The one that you’re waiting for when class is over? The one that you’d sit down with at dinner and who you’d tell how your day went? The one that you’d miss whenever I wasn’t with you? The one that could make you as happy as you’ve always deserved to be?

The thing is, you are happy. She makes you happy and I’m happy for you guys, believe me. You’re good for each other and I’ll leave it at that. I’ll never do anything to interfere with what you guys have, that wouldn’t be right. I know that. But, deep down, I still find myself wondering, what if you knew?

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Would you chose me over her? Probably not, there’s no way. She’s a 10/10. I’m, well, not. She’s with you, I’m not. If you knew, you’d probably think I was insane with no morals. You’d probably avoid eye contact with me for the rest of the school year until I leave this place behind, hopefully forgetting about how terribly difficult it is to see you across the room, wanting to be there with you, but knowing that, with your arm around her, you’ll never even consider me to be more than an acquaintance.

I hope you don’t know that I’m talking about you. I hope you’ll never know. But from time to time, I find myself wondering: what if you did?

The Worst Math Problem Yet

Never in my life would I have thought that a teacher could affect me so deeply. I’m not supposed to care that much, I’m supposed to feel more or less indifferent about my teachers, after all, they’re teachers, not my friends.

But today’s news stabbed me in the chest. I know I only have little less than a semester left at this school anyway, but I really hoped he would be here for that.

See, I hate math. And when I say hate, I mean I absolutely despise it. Ever since I was in fifth grade, I’ve been told that I’m bad at it. That’s not necessarily true; I’m not terrible, I just need some more time than others. None of my teachers ever gave me a chance to figure that out. Until last year, when I realized that I can do math, even if I’m not good at it. It sounds like such a small thing, but it made my days at school so much easier.

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Last week, we had a test in math and our teacher told us to write something nice about him for extra credit. I said that, if it wasn’t for him, I would have never even considered taking an AP math class, never in a million years. But here I am, passing the first semester with an A-. I said that I actually feel sort of confident about doing well on the AP test. But now I don’t know, I’m honestly scared.

Even if our new teacher will be great, amazing, perfect, anyone has ever wanted in a math teacher, it won’t be the same. I won’t be excited going into class anymore. I really shouldn’t be going into this with such expectations and I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. But I am, that’s how I feel, and it makes me so sad.

It’s weird, this really shouldn’t be so important to me. But it is, I care a lot, maybe too much, but I care a lot.

that’ll be it

I’m graduating in less than 18 weeks. 18 weeks seem like a long time, but, when I think about all the things I will be doing from now until may 31st, it suddenly isn’t that far away anymore.

I haven’t gotten a single college acceptance yet. I haven’t gotten rejected, either, but that only means that I’m just as far away from knowing where I want to go next year as I was two months ago.

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In a few weeks, I’ll be performing in my last ever musical here. I’ll be going on my last ever ski trip with this school. I’ll be going to my last ever prom, probably without a date. I’ll be playing at my last ever talent show (with no talent, still), and I’ll be going to my last ever OVS graduation, but this time it’s mine.

I’ll be walking down the stairs, sit lined up with my classmates on stage, get my diploma, and then that’s it. That’ll be the end of my past four years that were such an important chapter in my life and that contributed to so much of my personality. That’ll be it.

But, before that happens, there are so many more weekends to spend watching movies in the lounge, many more camp trips to go on and freeze my a** off, many more mental breakdowns over tests and AP’s to endure, horse shows to go on, story deadlines to miss, town trips to spend at Bliss getting frozen yogurt, sunsets to watch from the soccer field, and memories to make.

I won’t lie and say that this school and my life here is perfect. There are many things that I would like to change, but I don’t want to get into that now. Because there are so many more things that I am thankful for. Again, my time here hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been amazing. And in 18 weeks, it’ll be over, that’ll be it. And then, it’s time for another chapter.