Young Writers Society

f.

curled around a campfire,
with our phones in hand
and pillows at our feet,
we tend to the
quiet embers before us.

we talk about the little things
and watch as the fire grows.
you tell me the stories
you’ve kept bundled in
your chest, and i listen,
content to be your confidante.

and when you fall silent
and i find my voice,
i feel comfortable,
knowing that you’re there
by my side.

s.

we were standing outside
the high school auditorium
when i saw you for the first time
in more than three years.

but we picked up where our
story last stopped,
weaving a tale neither one
of us ever saw coming.

we didn’t condemn
our starting act.
we built up towards
a rising action
that’s still going strong.
there’s a thousand miles
between us now
but i know that our story
will never truly end.

k/b.

we sit underneath
the blooming cherry trees
and reenact a life
shared within a screen.

we’d build fantastical creations
and go on epic adventures
that the world had never seen.

our connection may be
different outside of our
digital utopia,
but i’m grateful that i
live in a reality
where your friendship bracelet
hangs around my wrist.

j/s.

i dream of shared universes
dancing at the tips of our fingers.

we wear different faces
in this liminal space
where realities collide.

but with each new dream,
it becomes easier
to find your smile
hiding behind
familiar and new faces.

I love the shift you've taken. Your poems are like little glimpses into your memories and it feels so authentic!