Posts
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i might cry
It'll be hard to write this poem because
I might cry
when the words become jumbled memories
nostalgia pouring out of the depths of my mind and unfolding on a blinding-white computer screen -
Text messages I'd never have the guts to send
Hi
I haven't seen you in a while
How are you doing
I don't think we ever really talkedWe talked so much
We used to talk every dayIt wasn't anything important thoughYou still don't know why I did what I didIt's fine -
... And Now It Is May Again
I was in the car, riding shotgun
listening to a song that sounded like summer
like tires rolling over hot asphalt
like mud stuck to the bottom of a murky pond
like a brain freeze from the coveted chill of ice cream -
I drowned in compliance
I drowned in compliance
like I'd drown in an oversized sweater
let it envelop me
until all I could see were the rolling waves of
expectations
tossing me out to sea, unforgiving -
drowning
the cool water laps over my arms, my legs
spills into my eyes
the sun is shining just above the surface in its brilliant radiance
but i'm underneath, waves tugging me away
and i almost forget i'm drowing -
the millionth untitled poem
You say I used to live in another world, one you don't know about
but really
all I am is who I am when I'm with you.
I'll give you my heart, my mind, my soul, the words coursing through my veins
Loves
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A Senseless Sonnet
poison berries, so simple yet seductive,
Brambles beckoning like a throne beckons to
a Crown —sinking its thorns deep as if they grew
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To Georgia, On Leaving
you traded for freedom with fireflies,
gave up bug lights for city ones.you miss me like you miss fireflies;
a necessary surrender for your future. -
Josh—a bottle of wine
There is a sort of gentleness; a sort of beauty in the empty bottle of wine sitting on my dresser amongst more innocent things
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Sew Me A Quilt?
I want your freckled cheeks and blond eyelashes
and I want your flying hair
and I want your careful words that start tumbling fast,
woven together,
please
so I can wrap myself up
and remind myself of happy.
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Memories and solid things
If I could weave the memories of you in a giant blanket
The night sky would appear
Or maybe the streets of that one city in Central America
The unspoken words caught in a language barrier
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She Breathed the World Through Poetry
And it tucked wildflowers
Between the pages,
Petals and pollen spiralled
Like constellations,
Still whispering of the breeze
And of the shooting stars;