birdies

 

the clouds in the sky are the mattresses in our dreams and the stream in your backyard could sweep you away if only you’d let it

we get drunk on imagination but drinking is bad for us so my dad quit drinking years ago, around the time my baby brother learned to ride tigers in the rainforest

we walk barefoot in the woods to feel the thorns prick our heels, to feel the dirt between our toes, to feel

we sneak out of our homes at nighttime to kiss under the stars because the walls of this house all look the same

sometimes I have to play ocean noises on my phone just to fall asleep, but my favorite beach is only a slumber away, as well as a world with no roofs, and a universe of limitless love

and here I am,

awake

dreaming of a faraway land of trees that grow candy and tvs that don’t turn on

waiting for the day we all forget our cellphones and remember to pick flowers for our mothers

im crazy lily and i make people nervous

is how I used to introduce myself

I was probably like four years old but you know a lot about yourself when you’re four, don’t you?

I had an imagination unlike anything else. my imaginary friends (named handprint and aurora) were as real to me as life itself. scraping my knees was a weekly event and the playground was more of a home than my actual home. the sprinkler system wasn’t just to keep the grass green, it was a private water park.

my curly hair could hardly fit in my swim cap and the split in my lip wouldn’t go away for a few years because I loved the feeling of chapped lips. I thought ghosts were chasing me on my bike even months after halloween and I was positive the cotton candy monster from scooby doo hid in my closet. I cuddled with a boy I called “yo man” during reading time, but I held hands with carson charles after school.

in elementary school I rapped for my student body presidential election, and I ended up being ridgelines first ever student body president. (campaigning against my first boyfriend, craig kendall) I wore basketball shorts to school every day. makena newman and I would occasionally play football with the boys in our grade but when we didn’t feel like playing, I would make her come sit with me under a tree to watch mason fairbanks play basketball.

in middle school I fell in love with thee kobe freeman and I won the badminton championship in girls P.E. I teased miss ruud and ended up being the only girl (to my knowledge) that didn’t make choir in ninth grade.

high school came around and I made life long friends and life long decisions. I met my first love, luke cloward, and discovered my secret crush on brock mcchesney. and weston lenhart. and caleb brown. I cheered in front of hundreds and tried so hard to prove to others that im not a stereotypical cheerleader. because im not.

I made so many crazy mistakes that my four year old self would probably never approve of, and I most definitely have made people nervous.

crazy lily never would have thought that she would be here on a Sunday night telling strangers her true identity, and sundance kid hoped she’d never have to.

I see how everyone has changed. and grown. I would never wear basketball shorts to school nowadays. I make sure to keep my lips perfectly hydrated. and im not so scared of the cotton candy monster anymore.

as much as I hate to admit it- im growing up. but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. sundance kid has changed me. helped me to grow into someone that I really like. and im really grateful for that.

we all hate revealing our pen names, but all they are is a snapshot of the person we are becoming. I love Sundance kid. and I love crazy lily. and I love who I am- with or without my pen name.




he thinks he wants to be a doctor

but I’ve seen his face light up when he thinks about airplanes

and I’ve heard his voice get higher when someone mentions the stars.

all of his neighbors are doctors and his dad told him they make great money and what more could someone hope for than money? nothing. that’s why he wants to be a doctor.

is the medical field a place for someone who faints at the sight of blood?

I’ve read what he’s written and I’ve felt his heartbeat and it doesn’t beat for medical school and student loans, it beats for the world and the sky.

but that doesn’t matter to someone who grew up in a town filled with millionaires and fancy cars.

it doesn’t matter to someone whose keeps getting told he’s going to be a doctor.

it’s not that he isn’t listening to his heart.

it just doesn’t speak his language anymore.

carpe diem

my lungs are already weaker than they once were and I’m only seventeen.

I don’t play tag or hang from monkey bars and I don’t care to.

but I really wish I did.

because my lungs aren’t gonna get any stronger

I’m seventeen now and I love when my windows are rolled down and I love staying out during all hours of the night and I love making inappropriate jokes and I know that one day I won’t care to do any of those things anymore.

and I wish I could change that.

I hurt my 8 year old self every time I sit out a game of hide and seek or choose my phone over a piece of paper and crayons.

I hurt my future self by forgetting to dance or sleeping in past the sunrise

I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. I want to live it up.

carpe diem

seize the day.

I’m going to. I owe it to myself.

letter to the younger siblings

the field we used to play in has been paved and the bikes we used to ride are rusted and our old house is inhabited by strangers and the words I used to say don’t make sense anymore and

I hate change

why did you have to change

why did we have to change

that shed has been torn down and those neighborhood kids moved away and grandma doesn’t make cookies for us anymore and those bridges have been burned and

were growing up

why did you have to grow up

why do we have to grow up?

big sister moved away years ago and and your voice started changing months ago and we never have sleepovers anymore because you’re getting too old and I’m getting too cool for that and

I just miss the kids we used to be.

I miss you.

even though you’re one room away and we talk everyday, I miss you.

you don’t ask me to read to you and mom never tucks you into bed. we don’t play hotbox in the summers and you really only talk to me when you want a ride but

I guess change is inevitable and I guess growing up is too.

but no matter how things have changed I still love you.

foot tappers

here’s to the kids who can’t sit still.

good for you.

I know you’re anxious to get out of here. to waste no time. to seize the day.

I’m sorry you’re stuck in class.

here’s to the kids who go to the bathroom every damn class period.

I wish I was as brave as you.

I wish that when you needed a change of scenery, your only option wasn’t some mirrors and green lockers. I wish everyone knew you’re not a bad student, just a foot tapper.

here’s to the day dreamers.

I’m rooting for you.

I know you’re sitting in math class thinking about all the places you could be. I know you’re thinking about all the people you could be meeting. I know you’re thinking about all the life you could be living.

here’s to us.

bricks

I wish you threw pebbles. but instead you threw bricks.

and when you left,

you left me bleeding with a shattered window.

a ton of bricks.

and the fear of anybody throwing pebbles.



january first

I cry every January first.

who knows if they are happy or sad tears.

I don’t know whether to dread the new year or be excited about it.

I don’t know whether to be relieved about leaving the new year behind or upset.

im choking on the future and tripping on the past.

I cry every January first.

who knows if they are tears of joy or tears of heartbreak.

I don’t know if my people of ’18 will still be around for ’19.

I don’t know if we will ever be the same.

I’m nostalgic for home but i’m homesick for places I’ve never been.

What a horribly wonderful stage of life.