Simone

The trees have flowers and leaves now. They didn’t last week.

My stomach churns pondering looming subject tests, AP tests, SATs, and pool parties.

On weekends I wander crosstown with friends by foot. My heels are scuffed and dusty when I come home at night. I don’t wash them before I jump into bed to sleep on white sheets. My friends and I, we sit in parks and go hiking and dance in backyards. Most days, ice cream feels like an adequate meal.

My roots grow in blonde, blonder than ever. This maybe sucks because at the moment, my hair is dyed a dark brown, but it really doesn’t, because: sunlight.

I pity the time I spend indoors, although it is, admittedly, a lot. Why? There’s still work to be done. Monotonous, tedious, hard work. I just want to go outside, or be getting ready to go outside. Crosswind from the two open windows soothes me on both sides. It smells like life and joy and cow shit; this is spring air.

I am decaying from within. It’s the sleep deprivation.

Outside, everything blooms. ♦