By Samantha Reichl
Today I didn’t wince
when I thought about you.
I think these self-love poems
are doing more for me
than the you-love poems.
I will never open up to you again.
You don’t get to hear my dreams
or goals
or weekend plans.
You sure as hell won’t be a weekend plan.
I will never tell you
how I love that your mind
is greater than the sum of your parts.
Because it isn’t.
Your heart is hollow
and empty
and that’s why you tried
to steal mine.
I will straighten my hair
and put on clothes
so dark
it makes men question their morals.
I will strap on
knee-high combat boots
and curb stomp
the hearts of lesser men.
And I will do all of this
for me.
My words will be
for me.
I will set myself free,
for me.
* * * * * * * * * *
“The Battle on Bunker Hill”
by Cooper Vander Galien
Bunker Hill was standing still,
Until the brave came,
Fighting for America,
Fighting for that name.
Their hearts were like darts,
Soaring through the air,
Never will they stop,
They'll just keep fighting there.
The kill is still,
But the brave still come,
The British have lost,
And the war is done.
Per Cooper's mother, "Cooper is a fourth grader who loves poetry and is home schooled.”
