He hated his birthday so much that he 
didn't even want to celebrate.
His parents protested, his sister prodded,
his grandparents sent emails trying
to determine what kind of gift
to mail over, but he didn't care.
No one knew what he wanted, especially
not him. But they celebrated anyway.
They celebrated through hugs and 
cheers and the 'Happy Birthday' sign
Mom hung up on the stair railing, and
the same chocolate cake from the 
grocery store he asked for every year--
his one request-- and the tearing open 
of envelopes to reveal thoughtfully
picked cards. You might've thought it
was unfestive, but it was festive in
the right ways for him.

This is a super random piece, but I hope you enjoyed it. It’s actually inspired by my brother (his thirteenth birthday was last week!) who hates being the center of attention and therefore doesn’t enjoy his birthday very much. I’m actually not a big fan of my birthday either– who else can relate? Please let me know if you have any feedback on this piece or writing challenges you’d like me to try out in the near future. Stay safe and healthy.

Brooke

Cinnamon is her name, my grandmother said. 
Like the color of her fur. The dog's fur was dark

brown, almost black, but I said nothing. Arguing
with her never accomplished anything. 

I could tell she wasn't the brightest- her ears 
didn't even perk up at the mention of her name.

She wagged her tail expectantly. When I was eating 
a turkey sandwich come lunchtime, she jumped

onto the table (no easy feat-- she hopped up on the chair 
next to me and clawed her way up within seconds)

and tried to take a bite. I was immediately annoyed.
As more food robberies and shenanigans were 

attempted, I learned to ignore her. I had always been 
a dog person, but I wasn't a Cinnamon person. 

My grandmother moved in. She brought Cinnamon with
her, of course. No matter that my dad, her own son, had '

always been allergic to dogs, and that we'd never had a dog 
in our home in my life. Rules she had never had to follow

were laid down. No sitting on the couch, no going upstairs, 
no stealing food from the table, no going in the dining room.

She spent most of her time outside, napping on a lounge chair
in the sunshine. Specifically, the place that was "my spot"

in our backyard. I laid on the chair anyways. Cinnamon 
hopped up to sit there with me, and I ignored her...other 

than a few rubs behind the ears. I wasn't a Cinnamon person,
but she didn't like it here either.

I hope you enjoyed this piece! It pretty much sums up a lot of the frustrating experiences I’ve had since my grandmother and her dog (yes, Cinnamon!) moved in with my family in January. I don’t want to come off as rude or an animal hater, but as you can tell my feelings towards Cinnamon were mainly displaced. I actually spend a decent amount of time taking her on walks now. Please let me know if you have any feedback on this piece, or any writing challenges you’d like me to try out in the near future. Stay safe and healthy.

Brooke

not many people make it out of here; i still can't
determine whether that's by choice or not

i dream of white Christmases, of crisp leaves
at my feet, of picturesque towns that experience

all four seasons. i'm a traitor, an oddball, a black
sheep for wanting to leave the sunshine and

brave the cold elsewhere, for wanting to leave this
town like my mother and father both failed to do.

i could argue it was just as much their choice to stay
as it wasn't, but their story and their home will

remain theirs. i'm going to find a new
hometown.

I hope you guys enjoyed this piece! It’s definitely a summary of my current situation with my family and hometown. I live in southern California, so people look at me like I’m crazy when I say I want to go pretty much anywhere else for college; I know I’m blessed to have grown up here, but I want to experience seasons and life elsewhere. It’s also way too expensive. Let me know if you have a similar perspective, or if you have any feedback on this piece. Stay safe and healthy.

Brooke

why did you have to leave?
     sometimes i forget that you did but
i'm proud of myself for that
     it took too long to realize forgetting

would make it easier. 
     adjusting to life without you was hard.
reflecting on life with you is harder.
     and i can't help but wonder 

where i would be now
    if you were still here to guide me.
please come back, but also
    don't. i've made it too far and you've

been gone too long. if i had to guess
    where you were, i'd say you
were chasing the sun and dancing
    with the stars. if i ever

need to reach you, 
     maybe i'll meet you there
someday.

I hope you enjoyed this piece! Please let me know if you have any feedback on this poem, or any writing challenges you’d like to see me try out in the near future. Stay safe and healthy. 🙂

Brooke