Posts
-
hummingbird girl
She's hidden, cowering in the corner,
as she waits, mouth open,
words frozen on her lips.
She does not speak.
I mold my sadness into poetry and she watches me,
amber eyes taking in everything and nothing.
-
camp.
If I close my eyes it feels like I'm still there.
I can hear the clatter of plates and the clamber
to be first in line for breakfast,
-
Sun descending in a sienna sky
The basketball court is slick with freshly-fallen rain, black nail polish hardened into enamel after spilling weeks ago lies on my desk, forgotten and right in front of my eyes, as I watch them play that game on my tiny screen, their feet sliding
-
Realities
She pressed the cherry into my hand,
Smiling, it didn’t mush,
Didn’t leak red juice all over my summer-calloused palm
Like fake blood, too bright to be the real thing.
-
Closer to spring
Darkness falls quickly now,
the feeble sky overpowered by the black pull of eternity.
Snow turns to rain, rain turns to mud,
and every month, I bleed and I cry.
It's almost Christmas, but
-
My Heart Will Heal
Your eyes are dark like midnight, filled with millions of tiny stars
and I don't know what to say to you, what to do
because when I see you,
my
heart
breaks,
not in two but in so many scattered pieces,
Loves
-
Dinner With You
I only ever came here for the fortune cookies
I don't know if you can tell
when I stare at the menu
under shiny plastic with a red rim
when I glance
-
middle school chorus concert
we stood on stage in black & white eyes tired but we sang til tomorrow anyways // they caught our eyes as it ended raised their hands to clap but i turned quick away convinced our performance wasn't worth more than // the quiet glint of confid
-
Lilac
I bring my nose close to
the Lilac
as I smell it's like I'm smelling a universe of
peaceful trickling streams,
birds softly singing,
-
In that Field
It never happened
that everything was beautiful and nothing hurt
but if it did it would have been
lying in the grass
the kind that surrounds you like the ocean
and flows like a river
-
Life Plans, In The Style of Fredrik Backman
Rori Acher is eighteen years old and dying. Any licensed medical professional would pronounce her perfectly healthy. But there are many ways to be dying that are not physical.
-
velvet ease
Kiss where ink and flesh align,
carved to summon touch.
Skip the space between my lips,
spewing oaths of love.
You feed me want— then starve me dry.
A feast of glances,