Switches
I met him in poetry club. I know it doesn’t seem like the kind of place you’d meet a person like that. Or a person like me, either. I was there because it was an excuse to get out of class. He was there because he’d had his heart broken at the ripe old age of seventeen, only I didn’t know that yet. Poetry club was divided into two halves- the first half was a project where you wrote poem, sometimes alone and sometimes with a partner or in groups. The second half was where...