by B. J., 14
Simplicity and complexity—
the way we see things across the
rough waters in this one
shape, one color type country—
it was never mine, and I try
not to cry, but I’m fine. Goodbye.
Night time is in the night sky.
Blinded by the hands of fear, you’re left
moonless. Flashing lights of red and blue—you
know you’re not safe, even when walking to school.
And you make a wish upon every
white dandelion. Time has a precious way
of showing its color just by looking
at rose petals. But if it happens it happens.
Red Bank, New Jersey
Bridge Ink 