Teigan Caldwell

Five Micro Essays


this is blunt.

This is not.

because This is a sharpened knife.

there was no way for you to know that.

what an idiot.



Zero plus zero is supposed to be zero.

And zero is nothing.

But, when I come home from school each day,

My dad always asks me what I learned,

And I say “nothing”,

But I still end up learning things by the end of the year.

Something doesn’t add up.



We were best friends, but we’re no longer best friends

All of a sudden, she stopped replying to my texts.

I don’t know why.

She won’t tell me why, because we’re no longer best friends.

Will it happen again?

Will I make the same mistake?

I don’t know, because she won’t tell me what I did.



I told myself not to get my hopes up.

I’m such a hypocrite.



I’m going to be as weird as I want.

If you can’t handle me, well, that’s okay.

As long as someone can.

Because I want friends, but I don’t want to change myself for you.

Not my weirdness, at least.

I need that part.

You can try to influence the rest, I guess.

But not too much, please

Lily High

Five Micro Essays

My Best Friend

I’m afraid I’ll lose her. Each time we meet, each Sunday and  Wednesday, I’m afraid of what she’ll say. I shouldn’t be. She’s an anchor. She stays grounded, though her head is in the clouds. She wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t abandon our bond. Right? Five years, going on six. I’m afraid they’ll mean nothing. I’m afraid she’ll throw me out, leave me at the mercy of the wolves and the wind. Leave me to float helplessly in the sky. Each time, she doesn’t. Each time, she smiles. Each time, she laughs. But I’m still afraid. 


On Bad Days

An immeasurable ocean, ready to swallow me up the second I misstep. Each wave crashing down harder than the next. Each spray of foam is a stab in the chest. Each, “what’s wrong?” Another tide, dragging me deeper. Each “can I help?” A lifeboat, bobbing up and down. Weak smiles, shrugged off questions, distracted nods. Salty water fills me, flooding my insides. 


My Ex-best Friend

I should have known it wouldn’t last. We were young. Those friendships never hold for long. Sure, there are exceptions. The childhood best friend that you end up dating, the one who, years later,  moves in next door. But most are wisps of memory, lost to the years. I have snippets of her: a playground, a princess costume, a picture drawn in the basement, a couch, a living room, a gate, two sisters. I wonder if she has snippets of me. Bits and pieces that keep us connected, though it’s been years. I wonder if she remembers.


New Year’s Day

Sparkling cider, decorations, glasses clinking, a countdown. The Christmas tree still standing, ornaments shining. Smiles all around. “It’s a new year!” Resolutions already scratched down on mental notepads, later to be crossed out and forgotten. Nothing feels different, though no one thinks to mention it. It’s a new year, but nothing changes.