Sheltered from the cold I write these words
I keep a diary but it’s not a diary
I call it a diary for lack of a better word

Diary brings back delusions of a girl with a shiny pink notebook
Pouring away her useless soul onto pages
by means of a glittering purple pen
Writing idiotic things about the boy she is in love with
And how the world is made of pink clouds of fairy dust

But I was never that girl, the clouds that blinded her were not in my way
Instead I choke in a fog of nostalgia
My pitch black leather bound book is where I too pour out my soul
The inky pages smell of better days
Ones where leaves were chased and puddles were stomped
Snacks were shared and giggles spread
Nights where eyes would close before the sun went down

But those days and nights have past
They were replaced by
Ones where classmates were chased and bullies were stomped
Secrets were shared and rumors spread
Nights where eyes would close halfway down the page of a favorite book

Now even those days and nights are gone
They’re replaced by
Ones where buses are chased and freshman are stomped
Answers are shared and stupidity spreads
Nights spent wide awake in attempt to finish homework and catch up with old friends

And so here I am writing my life away
because all my creativity is slowly going to dry up
because I’m stuck in public school
for lack of a better school
and because not all my classes are good
for lack of a better education
and because the government won’t fund schools more than the military
for lack of better morals
and because only really annoying adults that don’t understand are put in power
for lack of a better system
and because there’s little safe spaces left
for lack of a better world