When Fiona is not writing or reading The Book Thief, she's thinking. She thinks about a lot. In twenty years, she plans on becoming either a famous writer or a professional violinist. She lives in Croton-on-Hudson with her family.
“I didn’t have an answer.
my stress is swirling around like glitter in a jar,
says cal.
well, then, I say.
stop shaking the jar.”
hey cal, I say
what, she replies
do you know what, cal
what
I’m moving, cal
what
says cal
I’m moving, cal
I say.
cal says what again
but i think she knows what I said
cal runs away
and the next day she acts like it’s not true
like I lied to her
and when we have a playdate
she sits on the edge of my loft
and cries.
I know
she knows
my mom told me, cal says
is it true?
yes, I say.
I’m sorry, cal.
all my stress is rising now. my heart is pumping in my ears,
says cal.
I didn’t have an answer.
my stress is swirling around like glitter in a jar,
says cal.
well, then, I say.
stop shaking the jar.
1 Comment
I absolutely love this poem! It is so beautiful the way you structured this. Thank you for this poem!