We
We set out
with our (false) aspirations
at 3: 47 (?) on that
luminous (maybe) Sunday,
searching for
inspirations
or
signs of would be anythings.
The ascension
proved pointless
due to the unfortunate lack of
... something, although
we aren't (he isn't)
capable of determining what.
But the thing is -
he's not a DREAMER,
and
I don't care
because
I don't need him.
I don't need anyone.
by E. O., Milton, MA
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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