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Grade
11

My lips crinkle up in the half moon laugh of joy. Tears bleed down my checks and still nothing can keep me from moving. Running through the world. From place to place never resting long enough to be caught. Everyday it is the same: wake, laugh, cry, run, rest, sleep, repeat. Until one day I stop and I look back- back at all the memories that make me, me. And those sea salt raindrops well up and over the rim of my eyes tumbling down in desire for those good ol’ days. But still as the longingness blooms deep in my soul my mouth quirks up in the trace of a crescent and it grows wider, Soon the white pearls shine as an animal bubbles up. Is it a laugh or a sob? Does it matter? Whatever it is I’m done running.