My Blue Crocs

Breezy August is care-free
Filled with giggles and music
Friends and freedom
Playing in the sand
Walking on soft grass
In my blue crocs
Once summer is over
I put them away
On a shelf
In my attic.

School starts
In September
Melt-downs in gym
Drama with friends
Secrets that change your life
That empty feeling
Which you can never understand in books
I can finally relate
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

An all-nighter birthday
Begins October
With laughing
And obsessing over TV
Worries about school work
The dread about the night
That will change my life forever
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

Holloween
Begins November
With the constant telling myself
It's the last day of October
But I still have time
And I really don't
Because I change
From black to white
No one
Really understands
And time keeps ticking
While I am stuck
In a moment
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

Coming back
From Thanksgiving Break
Begins December
The constant wish
That things can change back
And then the realization
That they won't
I just can't get over it
The dread of the thing
That isn't that bad
And the happiness
Of realizing the change
Was for the better
And the idea
Of starting the New Year
With a new horse
And new freedom
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

A New Year's party
Begins January
The constant smell
Of horse poop
Laughter in the lunchroom
School stress
Without a mirror reflection
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

Valentine's Day
Begins February
Stress of being single
Not fitting into the crowd
The girls laugh
At how I dance
And my crush
Doesn't even notice
Adults say
I'm just not trying
And again
No one understands
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

A beautiful ride in the rain
Begins March
The month
Of family hatred
That makes you question
How people
Can be so shallow
How people
Can know anything
For certain
How people
Can say the words
Not possible
And that saying stupid human
Is being redundant
Again they say
Scientists prove it
But who are we
Compared to animals
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

Spring Break
Begins April
I consider
Running away
But I never get past
The door
I just don't know things
Anymore
Like I used to
And I feel like
All I'm good for
Is dreaming
My crocs sit on the shelf
Dust piles on.

Final exams
Begin May
I look back
And ask
If I really changed
Sudden urges
For chocolate truffles
To shut the lights out
To run barefoot
My crazy ways
Of loving horses
And saying words
Like seriously
It's good
Simply knowing
That some things
Always stay the same.

I take my crocs
Into the June summer breeze
Dust scatters off
Into the open
And my crocs
Are blue again.

It's
A new season.