Feb 27

Small glimpse into the imagination of someone imagining texts

When you see a girl crying over her iPhone, 
Teenage boys huddled around their devices, 
Young adults seemingly talking to themselves as they walk down the street, 
What's really going on in that small piece of glass that lights up a dark room? 

It illuminates the wall of my room. It's past 10. 
I can't sleep anyway, so I roll over and pick up my phone. 
There's a list of notifications. I do what every teenager does at this time of night.
I unlock my phone. 
We should be sleeping. We know it. Everyone tells us that.
We tell ourselves that. We get it.
But our brains work differently.
When I pick up my phone at night there are notifications. From my best friend, my ex, and my crush.
And it’s like a game. Who can I wait to respond to?
My ex, of course.
Who do I need to open right away?
Who do I want to open right away?
My crush.

Feb 27

What Do You Trust about Trust?

There’s another romance movie on Netflix 
It’s a cliche "chic flic."
Where the boy says to the girl 
Do you trust me? And the girls whole world 
Because he is her everything. 
So the answer is yes, she is very trusting,
Of him at least. 

It seems like most of the modern, romantic movies right now feast 
On the fact that hopeless romantic girls are sitting at home 
Watching these movies 
And so they throw in all these cliches and oey gooyey sappy lessons 
Because cliches are made for a reason. 
And it seems as if something we are all pining for 
Is that boy, or girl, 
Or friend, or somebody 
That we can trust whole heartedly

Because trust makes us feel safe and valued.

And yet then someone breaks our trust 
And we feel as if we must
Stop trusting everyone else.
So the next friend comes along, and well, 
Nov 18

Have the Words Swallowed You?

Words that fill the buckets up to the brim
Words are dripping down her skin 
Smear them across her shouder 
Throw them across the counter
No one knows what to do 
Watching the words swallow you 
They are circling in her head
They are zooming out of bed
She doesn't know what to do
Watching the words define her too
Nov 18

The Smell of Curls

I love the smell of curls, 
The iron on next to the sink.
Hairspray in the air,
The feel of your hands on your face 
Listening to the aersol can 
As you cover your eyes. 
The cold silver of a pretty necklace on your neck
The feeling of velvet in your hands. 
Your tights smell dusty and new
Clinging to your legs.
Slipping your clothed feet into fancy shoes
Smothering your dress down in the mirror 
Looking yourself up and down one more time 
Feeling confident as your heels click down the hall
A holiday is in the air, 
And you can sense every part of it around you. 
Nov 08

Words are interesting, right?

Words are interesting, right?
They’re just letters we string together and decide to add spaces in between.
We have so many rules for words, and what they do.
We learn them from early on, 
"Good morning class, today we will be learning grammar and sentence structure.
The first rule I am going to teach you is easy to remember with a cute rhyme; I before E except after C"
"Excuse me? What about the word WEIRD?" 
"Well.. um.. Let’s move on!" 
Turns out we can’t explain everything with words.
Especially emotions.
Have you ever thought to think about why we created swear words at all?
Seriously, we have all these words that we tell our children not to say,
not to ever say.
And some listen,
but even the best of us swear sometimes.
Nov 08

My Imagination, To Yours

You can have a secret life 
Without doing anything wrong. 
You can be in love with someone you shouldn’t
Without having anyone know. 

Multiple worlds existing simultaneously
In your own mind. 

Imagination is a powerful 
And dangerous tool
When you least expect it to be

When all you want is to escape and be 
In another place
Where you can control everything. 

Maybe the control 
Is what makes it so dangerous. 
Or maybe it’s the fact that we get addicted 
To the perfection 
That lives in our mind. 
Oct 07

I Love it Here

Clashing pink on green 
Faded colors up on trees 
Soft flannel on spiked ground 
Buying red grapes by the pound 
A whole album passes
Reading the sign about the masses 
Loud ears in a quite town
Sitting high up on a mound 
Painted nails, decorated hands 
Looking at my wrists, covered in bands
Friends cross the cracked road 
Strangers wave their hellos
Warm air fills this old place 
As I think about whether or not I’ve had a change in taste 
In the end I have one question 
Who outgrew who in this situation? 
Jul 23

Publishing Help?

Hi everyone! 
So for some reason I thought there was a “post” category but I guess not... so rant/rave was the second best choice. 
This year I have been working on writing a book and recently I have finished editing my manuscript! I don’t have many writing contacts and I’m just wondering if anyone out there could help me with the next steps. I’m hoping to get my book published, but I don’t know where to go from here. 
If you have any advice or help for me I’d really appreciate it if you messaged me! 
Thank you so much !!
Jun 08

But Life is Life

We are told 
To live in the moment. 
A moment, 
Every moment. 

Sometimes, we are victimized
For wanting to see the bigger picture, 
Or, for caring about the overal outcome. 

So maybe my opionon 
Is an unpopular one. 
But nonetheless, 
I don't think living in the moment 
Is all it's cracked up to be. 

We stress 
About little things 
Happening at this very second
In our very long lives. 

The way we look in middle school, 
The way our friend acted in a certain situation, 
That we were late by five minutes. 

Granted, some things in life do make 
Greater impacts 
Than just a few seconds or days 
Of stress, or harmful emotions. 

But most things, 
Especially when you're in high school, 
Don't last longer than those few seconds.

They don't need to, 
Unless you choose to stretch them out. 

Jun 06

Many Moments

There is no one moment when you fall in love,
Just the collection of all the laughter,
and tears,
and deep conversations between two people.

There is a snapshot from class,
and a memory that always makes you smile, even through tears.
There are smirks and light smacks on the head,
and pencils flying across the room.
There is a list of inside jokes,
special to just you two.

It’s poetry,
that’s waiting to be written.

It’s when you keep lists of things you want to do together,
it’s when you think of them when they aren’t around.
Love is a storyboard of two lives, that have happened to cross,
when no one was changed for better
or for worse,
but instead accepted into a safe environment.
It’s sharing childhood photos.
It’s two hands laced together,
with truth indented in the wrinkles.
It’s the moment when you correctly guess the other’s thoughts,