Apr 11
lana.W's picture

Who I Am

That’s me,
second from the right,
the one awkwardly scratching her chin,
the one spacing out so far
Major Tom couldn’t pull me back in.
I'm the one who’s not swinging,
or texting, or chatting.
But I’m with my friends, and they don’t care
if I’m shy and reserved,
or that I’m awkward in public.
They bring me with them,
just because they like to have me around.
They like my company.
I listen to their problems,
not because I'm too anxious to tell them mine,
but because I care.
But also because I’m too anxious that if I start,
I might never stop.
Same reason I choose not to swing.
So scared of how a tiny bit of relief will feel,
that I never want it to happen.
I’m like the Eeyore of the group.
I may not be the happiest person in the world,
but that doesn’t matter,
because my friends love me
for who I am
with social anxiety
and all of my quirks.
Apr 08
lana.W's picture

My Home

My home has been different almost every year. Home started out in Brooklyn, NY. Small town, Vermont is quite different from that. And Hanover, NH is quite different from both. I've lived in the city, the suburbs, and out in the boonies, and each setting has their perks... And their downsides in Vermont, nothing is in walking distance. In Hanover, everyone's already friends. I finally made my way into a circle of friends and let me tell you, it was not easy. Fortuneately (and unfortunately), I was too young to remember any of the bad parts of life in the city. But i imagine they existed. Home is different for everyone, and i have yet to find out where my next home will be.
Apr 08
lana.W's picture

i foresee a world

I foresee a world.
One where people are free.
To do what they want, and love who they love
And people can simply just be.

I foresee a world,
Where I’m not shamed for questions
I’m not shamed for love,
Not shamed for agression.

I foresee a world
Sans toxic-masculinity
Where men can be soft,
Without fear of femininity.

I foresee a world
Where people can thrive
Where people can forgive
And be glad to be alive.
 
Mar 14
fiction 2 comments challenge: Pal
lana.W's picture

Let the Light In: My Existential Crisis

I remember vividly. It was end of May or early June. This picture perfect afternoon… Oh, no wait, that’s a song. Ah yes, it was autumn. Sam and I were walking through the neighborhood, when an unpleasant thought infiltrated my mind.
“So… like, I know you say I’m 'really fun,' bu-...”
“‘But’ what?” Sammy boy interrupts.
“But, like” I hesitated. “Am I… real?”
Sam looks at me, he seems slightly kerfuffled. He has this look he gives me when he thinks something’s up where he squints his eyes and crinkles his nose and raises one eyebrow. He looks away but says, “Well you’re real to me.” And I thought for a moment.
“So I’m not real to anyone else?”
Mar 08
lana.W's picture

Tales From a Storm Shelter

Listen to the wind.
Like a man who has sinned,
It thrashes and screams and shouts.
Our hopes may have thinned
but it's only the wind.
Let go now of any and all doubts.

The heavens now cry,
As trees and leaves fly.
But children are calmed and regaled.
So worry not why,
Just let the clouds cry.
You're safe now, the doors have been nailed.

Sam put that down!
Sweet Emma don't frown.
This storm will be all over soon
We’re all safe for now.
Then we’ll all go lay down
Beneath the pale light of the moon.

It’s just one more hour
Till we don’t have to cower.
And the sun is shining again.
The earth will then flower,
In this short, golden hour.
There's no need to fret, my friend.

 
Mar 01
poem 1 comment challenge: Alone
lana.W's picture

You Won't Believe This!

When I came home from school,

I found myself in shock.

The beds all gathered by the pool,

The couches stand round the grandfather clock.

There’s confetti everywhere,

and food all strewn about.

There’s armoires running here and there

until they all pass out.

The toaster’s jumping in the tub

as appliances holler “Stop!”

There’s forks and knives in every shrub

While napkins danced on top.

Though difficult not to double take

I felt a shiver up my bones

I then found myself lying awake.

In my bedroom, all alone.
Feb 23
lana.W's picture

She

She laughs at inappropriate moments
She has a funny sense of humor.

She doesn't understand
how people are feeling.

She cries long and hard,
leaving her face red and streaky.

She knows the answer,
but doesn't talk.

She knows the way,
But refuses to walk.

She sees the trends
but won't get involved.

She need not worry
what others will think,

For she was beautiful,
But in a different sort of way.
 
Feb 08
lana.W's picture

Which Pet?

Which pet will best suit my needs?
I see puppers and doggos galore,
but what I want is so, so much more.
Dogs are great, and not much exceeds.
The pet store closes in five.

I need a pet who’ll fascinate,
who’ll make my guests say, “WOW!”
I need to make my decision now.
There’s no time left to waste.
The pet store closes in four.

I looked at every bunny,
I also looked at birds.
Across the street, I see llama herds,
When mom says, “It’s time to go, honey.”
The pet store closes in three.

Maybe an iguana? Nah,
Iguana’s don’t seem right.
Oh woah, is that lizard white?
How ‘bout a fluffy cat, to feel bourgeois?
The pet store closes in two.

My time is running out,
I need an animal quick!
I don't know which one I'm going to pick,
Should I choose beak or snout?
The pet store closes in one.
Feb 01
poem, fiction 0 comments challenge: Luck
lana.W's picture

My Worst Day Ever

Believe me when I say
My luck is truly bad.
I lost my bag at school today.
It really made me mad.

It had important papers in it,
I need my mom to sign ‘em.
The teacher might forget to check,
I hope no one reminds him.

On my way from period two
I got tripped in the hall.
They laughed like it was such a hoot
to watch me trip and fall.

To make the matter even worse,
My friend just laughed along.
I wish that they would all disperse
but they laugh until I'm gone.

Because of this unneeded stress,
I'm late to my third class.
I need to end this stupid mess,
I want this day to pass!

The teacher wants to yell at me,
‘cause I guess he thinks it's fun.
He then calls me a stoned absentee,
So I decide to run.

I ran straight home from stupid school
And up to my tiny bed.
I cried as I called for my dog named Jewel
Dec 21
poem 1 comment challenge: Snow
lana.W's picture

The Vermont Poem: Next Generation

It has come to my attention,
that just like my mother,
I do not write Vermont poems.

I will tell of no weary pines.
with branches aching
from holding snow.

Not a single utterance will be uttered
about the glossy, glassy, icicles 
dangling from the porch.

No frozen mud puddle
in the shape of a rose
that cracks under feet
like a piece of fine China

And I cannot—because I will not—
talk about fresh, glistening snow
and the satisfying *CRUNCH* it makes.
Or how it sparkles in the early morning
when you go to let the dogs out.

I don't write Vermont poems either mom!
I'm witty, just like you.
Now let's go watch our favorite movie,
it's getting really cold out here!

Pages