Posts
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Light
I love the light this time of day
The way the raindrops dance and play
The gentle shadows on your face
The way the darkness leaves in haste
I love the light this time of day
The flowers' colors on display -
Normal People Prison!
Yaaayyyy!
Normal people prison!
I'm glad your finally here!
Someone thought I stole a watch
And lookie I'm still here!
Normal people prison!
The jump suites- all the wire.
Eatin' lunch like high schoolers -
A year in the life
In march I learned I value a schedule.
A really full schedule, with a plate piled high with things to do.
Because not having a schedule means free time
And free time means thinking and procrastinating. -
The Side Affects of Reading
Please read all side affects before sticking your nose in books.
A sense of curiosity,
A strong beguiled urge
To ride in hat and cape and wand on broomsticks, will emerge.
You'll start to see head canons -
7 O'clock
Sorry I'm not ready,
I should be- but I'm not.
the fact that schools tomorrow?
Can it honestly just... not.
I woke up after twelve today,
I read well into dawn.
The stories blossom in the night
(Even when I yawn). -
One Orbital Cycle
This year,
Last year,
Next year.
Is a human construct.
Which in the long run means nothing
The only difference between today
And tomorrow
Is the numbers with which we document time.
But what if.
Loves
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Love is...
Love is…
my favorite pair of glasses,
the ones you look through
and see
that the world
is somehow
brighter.
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Peonies
I lay them in a mandala, the shards of glass
I pull from my back, one by one. I let them
scar over, and I surround the mandala
in peonies, because the pain was not for nothing
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Mother
I hear you ... singing to the sky
I see you ... dancing through the lies
I feel you ... your touch ever so dear.
I know you ... you are my mother, and that is clear.
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She was herself
she was wildflowers and star-filled skies
she was screaming and laughing
she was loving so hard you can't think anymore
she was jumping off a cliff and the feel of water on your skin
she was your wildest dreams
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bloom
she was made of all her sorrow
and yet she bloomed like a sunflower
