Posts
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One of Those Girls
I can't shake the feeling
That I'll never be one of them
Girls with lives made of honey and laughter,
Girls with someone who looks at them
Like they're laced with something unknown and magical,
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My Name/Your Name
cover my eyes so i can see you better
my night shadow, cloaked in delicious mystery,
your hand, forbidden fruit, holding mine
under the waning light of a summer's day.
i wish
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at home on a winter's night
The thick night cloaks everything and the snow follows suit
a delicate dance, welcome
after two years of rainy Decembers.
My room is cold even though
the heat is blasting, so I sit
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Australia
At school we draw in the margins of our notebook paper
and toy with the idea of moving to Australia.
We look up the latest news in between classes, knowing that
the teachers will think we're addicted to our phones.
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Apple Cider
I want to drink apple cider with you
Like it’s a fine wine,
Make-believe adult, wrapped in your wool blanket,
Counting the minutes until your parents return.
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Martha's decision (inspired by the book "Prep" by Curtis Sittenfeld)
It was the little things that made Martha want to leave home.
Loves
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Size-11 EB Garamond
My words don't come
in anything other
than my voice, and
my voice doesn't come
in size-12 Times New Roman;
It comes in butterfly wings and
cluttered poems and ideas that
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again
You know I think it just struck me I was sitting here reading summer poems tasting raspberry popsicles on my tongue but looking out the window,
it's snowing out
and the trees and stone wall and everything,
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november
It's cold here, I reply to my grandparents when they ask how our week's going. It's cold, and wet, and already I am helping my friends put up Christmas decorations and string LEDs across their rooms, playing holiday music to try
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Addressed To: Soulmate, Out of Reach
They say that women don’t need men, and I believe that to be true. We don’t need men. But, by whatever powers may exist, does my young heart lie awake late at night and long to feel what it has never felt.
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Lily of the Valley
Somewhere, there is this little dock stretching out over a lake, where the clouds swim in the golden ripples of the rock I have skipped across its surface.
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