Moments in my life.

Something I said to my mom once that made her cry,

"I love you because you raised me to be the kind of person who loves without cause."

My only middle school love poem, of which I convinced myself was completely platonic.

To the girl with the braid in her hair,

And the ribboned mask that blooms,

I see you and I blissfully beam.

Not for the world to mock or share,

No matter what others assume.

Your backpack has patches of flowers,

Your socks have embroidered balloons.

If I could braid your hair,

I'd weave in ribbons

Nearly as pretty as you.