Posts
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the last day of march
Mud mingling with snow mingling with dirt,
the remnants of red nail polish from
Valentine's Day,
how has it lasted so long?
The sun a hot fiery ball over the cloud-speckled horizon,
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Good news
I don't want the cold hallways,
their chill seeping underneath
my thin regulation gown and settling in my bones.
I don't want the nurses,
with their tight, sympathetic smiles
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Us
I cling to the rollicking waves of our tumultuous friendship before they slip from my grasp, white-knuckled fingers and tangled legs praying not to be tossed astray by the unforgiving current.
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The back of the bus
They sit in the back of the bus,
the shimmer of secrecy ignited in their eyes,
her head in his lap, his hands in her hair,
her lips twisted in that sickening smile. My neck aches
from looking behind me, and my
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Rehearsal
We're backstage, giddy with nerves and
tired out of our minds, whisper-laughing as we mess
with our hair, with each other, try to put on makeup in the dark.
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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.
Loves
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crawdad song
you get a line & i'll get a pole
honey - honey! july thickens, slows to a stop outside, get
your rod and line, the ones that used to be your father's. get
your heart from the closet and your coat from the floor,
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Homestay in San Juan La Laguna
As I’m writing this I’m lying in bed in Nuevo Horizonte. A small jungle town in the north of Guatemala where around 100 people live and work together. Recently (a day ago) we wrapped up our time in San Juan La Laguna with our homestay family’s.
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Last Dream About Camp
i dreamed of the windmills again -
four big gentle giants towering over the blue-green mountains,
whirling round the clock like out-of-sync ballerinas,
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I am a rotten mango
I've been seeing a lot of girls on Pinterest
With bodies that don't look like mine
And I don't look away, because they are beautiful--they are pictures I look for and want to see
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sleepaway #1
it rained the night of our arrival -
big, whooshing gasps of whitewashed rain & thunder that
shook heavy against the darkening skies. dinner went long.
we only sang louder, deafening echoes beneath the storm as
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Summer
the air tastes like honey and promise
sticky with the scent of blooming jasmine
and freshly cut grass that crunches beneath bare feet
the sky drips blue
stretching wider every afternoon