Amelia_v

In my dreams, I wear long dresses and corsets.
          Run through meadows holding your hand.
                 My hair is free and my body is no longer stiff.

I am still finding me.
Still searching through the dark,
Looking for a light,
That beckons me.
I am still finding me.
Seeing and doing,
But it never feels right.
I am still finding me,
So close now,

See you yesterday,
Or maybe never.
With your messy brown hair,
And football body.
See you yesterday,
Because I never should have met you.
With your flirty glances,
That made me think you wanted me.
See you yesterday,

He is a boy made of wildflowers and walks in the woods after rain.
He is the smell of moss and old books that he reads in the morning over a bagel and earl grey.

A poem is the small bead on the floor.
A poem is the single red leaf left on that maple tree.
A poem is the way the sun shines in your eyes.
A poem is the way that lady struts down the street.

To-do list for getting better

• pull on my onesie that feels like a cloud and sheds like a dog
• start a fire with just enough logs
• warm tea or hot chocolate to keep my hands warm
• fuzzy socks on tired feet, tucked under my