"They say the owl was a baker's daughter,/To sleep, perchance to dream." I'm mad, you're mad, we're all mad here!

"I gaze into the wishing well,/To where a thousand wishes dwell..." Nove Otto.

"There she lies shattered,/Inside the broken-glass house,/Longing for the sun."

"We'll put stars on our hooks/And use them for bait,/Then toss them up/In the sky as we wait." For my grandfather, who was the first and last man to convince me to go fishing.

"I think that you have caught Some stars in your hair." To a girl named Sophie, who is my sister in all but blood.

A poem inspired by ee cummings' work for my old creative writing class and an exercise in which we were guided around campus blindfolded.

"Your arms were skinny, That kind of skinny where a person's elbows Are like burls on a branch And the there are bumps on their wrists Where the bones poke out." I can finally forgive the ones who bullied me, and for those who have been bullied, do not lose hope.

"Twinkling turquoise, plum violet, tangerine./Grass green and tickle-me-pink./Paper peeling, broken soldiers on coloring book fields./Wax rainbows shatter on the floor./Sweep up fragments of life and set them in a row./Playing pickup sticks with light." Of crayons and childhood.