Aug 03
poem 1 comment challenge: Pastoral

The Place

My place is not peaceful
My place is not picture perfect
My place is not quiet and calm
My place is not reflective and peaceful and meek.
My place is hectic,
It's loud, and it's bright.
It is strong and willful
It has a mind of its own
and my place can be ugly
but it can also be kind
It can be cruel,
but also the place were
dreams come true.
I will let you know
when I find it.

Jul 29
poem 1 comment challenge: Young

Stays Forever

I wish I could go back
and tell the younger me
when she was playing with her friends,
and playing Just Dance,
and licking her ice cream
and looking at the sunset,
going on road trips
and singing with sad foreign songs 
and making friendships,
and saying best friends forever,
that nothing lasts forever
and no one stays forever
and that nothing will ever be the same
Jul 29
poem 1 comment challenge: Dream


If all my sister's dreams came true,
we would life in cupcake sparkle rainbow land,
were unicorns pooped rainbows,
and everybody would carry
silly putty that farted.
The ground would be made of candy canes
and the trees would stretch out
and make jungle gyms and
beavers would rampant.
Santa Claus would be a creepy stalker,
the tooth fairy looks suspiciously like our father and
the easter bunny lives on Easter Island.
In the middle of all this craziness,
my dream interrupts,
and there is just
Jul 29


I will put on makeup,
I will pull on a dress
I will tame my hair
and I will 
paint my nails.
but i think you should remember,
I am not doing this for you,
I am doing this for me.
Jul 29

Walk in

You've got to
walk into the room like you
own the place,
and this is what I've learned since
I was a little girl.
Everybody in the room
expects you to come in
eyes on the ground,
hands by your sides,
taking small steps,
fighting the urge to cry,
just because you're
a girl.
And I refuse.
I dissent.
I will not buy in to your stereotype.

I will walk into the room like I own that place,
eyes straight up,
arms crossed,
taking wide strides,
straight into the future like
I own the place.
Jul 20

So Tired.

The little girl looks at her mother
with those big brown loving eyes,
mama, I'm so tired.
can I just rest?

She sees her mother sobbing,
telling her to hang on.
The little girl looks around the room,
she remembers the shattering glass
of the car, but she's bone tired.
papa, I'm so tired, 
can I just rest?

The little girl remembers the blood that pooled around.
Her family is crowded around her.
She's too tired.
I'm sorry.
I love you.
I'm going to rest

and her last thought as she slipped out was,
I tried.
Jul 20


Love is such a strong word,
just like hate.
Love is such a fragile word,
like a glass vase.
Love can be so thrilling,
but yet so sad.
Love can brighten your world,
or drown it in sorrow
like you have never
experieced before.
Love can start nations,
and it can break them apart.
And that is why you
should maybe be wary before you
fall in
Jul 17
poem 1 comment challenge: Moment


In the eyes of the cosmos,
I am just an insignificant
In the eyes of a black hole,
I am just an insignificant
In the eyes of nebulae,
I am just and insignificant
In the eyes of a galaxy,
I am just an insignificant
In the eyes of the planet filled with people,
I am just an insignificant
Cut in the eyes of you and my family,
I am the speck that matters.
Jul 15


The one silent rule,
that she has to follow,
never show that you are weak,
never show that you're going to 
break never show that you 
are going to burst at any moment.
Build the wall and 
build it high,
build it so you'll never cry,
cuild it so you'll be
strong for everyone around you.
And when you're done building the
wall so high and tall,
drowning your thoughts with music,
so long that your eyes forget how to cry
sit there and wonder if it was really 
worth it
Jul 15


Why can't the world express kindness.
Why can't the stars reach out and 
comfort us with their light.
Why can't the cold people at the heads of power
reach out and take some time.
To know the people,
to know the places,
to see what humanity is like.
If people would stop and smell the flowers,
maybe the world would be more