A Poem for the Small Things

Elementary, middle, high, all their own steps in life. Each one comes with plenty of opportunities and struggles. 

When high school first started I was immediately afraid of not finding a place where I could be me or grow into who I wanted to be, eventually I did find wonderful people. 

Now that I’m heading into my last year of high school I’ve thought back a lot to what these people represent in my life. 

 So whether you’re starting freshman year of college, moving into a new town, or even just a new year at school, the people that are meant to be in your life will find their way there soon. 


When it all began it didn’t seem so grand or important, a few years and a few stories and the clock would keep ticking. Although as the set path devolved, relationships evolved, and someway, somehow, they came together. On broken evenings longing to escape the dread of their lives, in the midst of the sweltering summer heat, slipping into oblivious enjoyment, they came together, and what a relief it was.

It became routine, part of who they were — breaking curfew to spend just a few more moments lingering in each others warmth, the shutter of a cheap plastic camera freezing a memory bound to be forgotten, cramming into spaces not large enough to contain all of them, but the perfect size to create a sense of belonging.

Life soon became effervescent. There was something about the way the nights moved, how they could sit together and watch as the pink sun settled into the ground, feel the breeze blow by carrying their words away with it, it was never not joyous.

All of their pictures were colored with nostalgia, the bittersweet smell of jasmine and fresh spring days emanating off of them. Peering down at the polaroid clutched in my hand, watching as the ink slowly traced the lines of their skin, mirroring an event that occurred only moments ago. The way the image formed was sort of how they had formed as well, an empty frame filled up through years, blank spaces that didn’t know they needed to be occupied, finally clicking together.

The warmth that came from looking at the complete image was indescribable. Something finally felt within reach, something finally felt like — home.