poem for the heroine of a young adult novel

A girl in a town

—no one gets her—

meets a boy in a town

who does.

Throw in another boy

—triangle—

or someone

not quite human,

and she thinks

the world might end.

 

You want to tell her:

despite a few close calls,

the world hasn’t ended yet.

And someday you will 

leave this town,

read Anaïs Nin,

cut your hair.

In five years, perhaps less,

you won’t remember

any of this, I swear.

—Gabrielle Zevin