Posts
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Mother of Demons
I wrote this for a Lord of the Flies creative project for school for which a prompt was to write about what would happen if it was girls on the island instead of boys.
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When You Are Old
When you are old and too tired to sleep,
Steeping like your lemon tea
In ancient memories and dreams,
I wonder if you’ll think of me.
When your forehead’s deeply linedWith remnants of the tears you cried
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A Tired Time
It’s a tired time we’re living in,
A tired time indeed.
We’re on the verge of giving in
To gluttony and greed.
And we say that we are fighting,Yet we haven’t changed a thing.
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The Silent and Still
I think I live for the silent and still —
The friends you made against your will.
The evening light,
The morning mist,
The impossible odds that you even exist.
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A Sestina
Somewhere in the summer sun,
Where dandelions dance and sing
Along with the bluebird’s lonesome cry,
Alone, you’ll find me, lying there
Between the grass seed and maple leaves,
Loves
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You, as the snow was melting
The snow was melting
when you talked to me
when they talked to you
when we stood with them
and their thinning perfume
their black backpacks
their straightened hair
their plans of the ride home.
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The Red Crayon
I haven't seen democracy since I was four years old,
coloring with crayons outside the lines while a man on screen was coloring the map with too much red that the blue was overpowered.
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anaphylaxis at 12 p.m. on a monday
i have trusted
myself.
i have trusted
my body.
i have believed
it will not bite back
that it will not feel the roaring rush
of danger in what is safe.
i have thought
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