Things I Learned in the Night

by Emily Byrnes

I wonder, will I metamorphosize, or die inside this chrysalis they call adolescence with sticky wet wings that will never get the chance to unfurl and feel the sun.

young love only means something when it’s written by adults.

I outgrew you, shed you like an exoskeleton, left you stuck to the concrete in the dead of summer, shiny skin blistering in the heat. I guess you could say I’m more cicada than butterfly. Cicada

I guess this is what the end feels like; like pretending we’re enjoying the rain, when really we’re just hoping it fills the silence so we don’t have to. The End

I’m surviving, but there’s no enjoyment and I have to wonder why the universe would dangle something so perfect in front of me if I cannot indulge in it a little.

You held out your hand and said I’d never see the beauty in life wearing glasses made of fear, but I didn’t take it. I’ve been hurt enough to know that when the storm alarm sounds, I’ve got to put up my walls or get out. How I Live Through Hurricanes

Maybe the horse just wanted someone to walk with. Maybe he wasn’t even thirsty.