I've spent these days,
Moments over moments,
Aching towards something-
Which I assumed was greater
Than what I could write myself

Greater

Than the trees I walk under
catching snow in my hair
as I walk home from school
alone, as I suppose I am always

Greater

Than the cold glass window panes
which I pressed my face to
to stifle hot tears and red cheeks
when frustration binds my mind

Greater

Than the moments
which make me myself;
Unrhyming and alliterative,
Understood as misunderstood.

Yet, when days melt to the month,
There was nothing left
Than words from a shadow's hand
Uninspired, unstrange.
The greatest words an echo.