by Nalli 10th
We’re running in an open field, leaving behind us nothing but a black sky, big enough to swallow us whole, big enough to make us feel like we are insignificant specks of dust.
I wish the Milky Way would come down and scoop me up,
“Will you pick me up from school today? I feel sick.”
I want to float, be cradled by the stars.
Will the universe do me a solid?
I know people won’t always be around to hold my hand, even when I am scared, because there are things you just have to do all on your own with no one to hold your hand.
And there is this relentless voice in my head that is always telling me everything is going to be just fine, and even looking up at the sky the smoke practically spells out “YOU'RE OK.”
Yet I still struggle to believe.
From the tip of your head, to the heels of your feet, you are made of particles and stars, a cosmic milkshake. You matter. I can see the significance in even the tiniest things that you do.
And I'll always want to hold your hand.
I had a nightmare a few winters ago, I was floating in the middle of this pool, my body full of peace. I could hear the water moving around me, crashing on the concrete. Then all of a sudden, I felt every feeling, person, everything I have ever known slam into my chest.
It took the form of a shark right before my eyes, this giant mess of a shark, all teeth and fins. Floating right in front of me.
Then with this crazy speed, he bit into my stomach.
And all these butterflies spilled out as he started to laugh.
He said “You taste disgusting.”
My stomach hurts, bring me a butterfly net and, please, try to catch everything that escapes my body.
Put it into a jar and label it “You’re Ok.”
Students 6th-12th Grades