Midnight music

That night was real

The closest thing we could get to pure existence.

Oh yes, we were slow dancing in a burning room

But the September air made me forget

And my eyes had already adjusted to the hazy lights

It made me wonder if yours would’ve too.

He sang songs of waterfalls and hidden canyons

And with every word I got more confused

Everything about that night seemed to say

Welcome Home.

Let me tell you something.

Secretly I’m out of control.

And no matter how much I love our little corner of the world

There’s so much more to see

And I’m not about to miss it.

-USU moonlight music

I am here

They joke that we’re dogs

All tied up in a kennel being forced out into a world we’re not ready for

They sing songs about teenage rebellion only to realize we’re adults

Adults that don’t know where to buy a lawnmower

Adults that don’t really want a lawnmower.

They just looking back to could haves and would haves

But we’re here now.

Here’s to the beginning of the best years of our lives

They’re not going to know what hit them

Summertime sadness

Summer is disappearing faster than my peach and pina colada snow cone

Dam jokes gone wrong and flat tires up the canyon remind us that we’ll always be high schoolers at heart

We draw too many hearts

But all of them are in one piece

I wish my heart would stay in once piece

But every car ride with you makes it break a little more

We hate it when we find the perfect skipping rock with no lake nearby

So we keep all the rocks in our pockets

And hope we find water before September


Her classroom smells like Lysol wipes

And all the posters are gone

When I walk in for the last time

She has a vase of flowers

She says she’s ready to leave

But I see her bookshelf still full

She couldn’t bring herself to take it down.

Dear Mrs. Chambers,

It’s this, but it’s also this 💛

Everything Else

I don’t want to be forgotten

I don’t want to be forgotten

But how can I say that?

I’ve already forgotten what that word means you explained to me a few minutes ago- what was it?


Today I cried.

I’ve been crying a lot lately

Sometimes happy tears

A few times sad

And once because I was riding too fast on my rollerblades

Regardless they’re tears.

Graduation is next Tuesday.

Our hours of high school are almost up and all I can think about is how bad I feel for my math teacher

That he stays

While we move on to the next part of our lives

Why am I crying?

I’ve seen paris.

I’ve been to Thames.

But this year I learned that France has typewriters

And beautifully decorated journals

And teenagers that hide behind pen names

They really just want to be heard

This year I found Paris.

I learned how to listen

If you need a tour guide give me a call

Because in a few months I’m moving across the state

But I don’t think I’m leaving Paris anytime soon

A fake

I feel bad for Goldilocks.

All she wanted was for things to be perfect.

If I knew her I’d guess that her bedroom was yellow.

And I’d guess that would be “just right” for her.

And I’d guess that her mom picked it out.

And maybe she felt like she was drowning in a Yellow Sea occasionally.

Sometimes she probably felt more blue than yellow.

But she was Goldilocks.

Look at her.

Worrying too much about things she can’t change.

No one told her about the paintbrush in the corner.

So she never questioned why her room was the color of sunshine

And not the ocean.

Everything has changed

Who would have thought

4 years later I’d be back here?

So much has changed.

Now I’m about to go to college

I’ve perfected my moms chocolate chip cookies

I’ve learned that hanging out with boys is fun too

And I know how attendance school works

I now understand how to write a prose essay.

And I know now how little that matters

But I get that growing up is inevitable.

I hate writing letters to my younger self because my younger self never even gets to see them.

But dear 14 year old me,

There’s so much more to live for then high school

But don’t forget to enjoy it while it lasts, because believe it or not, you’re going to miss it someday

So here’s a salute to my senior year

Here’s to pneumonia a week before spring break

Here’s to every song that makes me think of you

Here’s to late canyon nights

Here’s to Sunday night post reads

And no seminary credit

Here’s to living in the moment, and not taking anything for granted

And here’s to Lone Peak High School and the people we are because of it