Sep 07

Seeing you

I don't want to see you every day.
I like it better when you unexpectedly appear in places when I just happen to be there.
When you shout my name across a patio,
Not ashamed to be knowing little ol' freshman me.
Seeing you is my secret treasure box,
A sparkly wave of the hand, 
A masked smile.
But sometimes,
We're far enough away,
And then I can really see you smile,
Like a bunch of stolen treasure,
Making me smile too,
Excited and terrified all at once.
I want seeing you to be my reward for getting through the week,
Like an extra perfect piece of chocolate.
Because I'd rather see you for five minutes,
Than eat a whole box of chocolates.
It's so funny, 
To barely know each other,
But be able to pick each other out of a huge crowd.
And it gives me such a rush,
When you wave,
And I wave back in front of all these people.
Because seeing you,
Sep 01

Thirteen things I don't want to forget now that I'm in high school

1. I am a headstrong little animal, consistantly tugging, pulling, pushing, to get what I want. I don't settle.
2. I love people and books, And I judge both by they're covers because apparently freshmen don't speak on the first few days of school.
3. I go with my gut, because it's always hungry and always right.
4. I AM always hungry and always right.
5. I will never be happy with what I have, working hard until I get what I want, which is the best. See #1.
6. I have always been jealous of everyone, and everything, but I can't let that get in my way. See above.
7. I am weird, and I am insane, but that's what makes me so incredibly cool.
8. I'm a loud, bossy, drama queen, but not everyone wants to hear what I have to say.
9. Thirteen is my favorite number, and then twenty one, and my favorite colors are black and red.
10. I am unique, and I never need to blend in.
Aug 24

My tiger with wings

I have decided that I do not want a pair of wings tatooed on my shoulder blades.
I do not want a tiger either.
Well, not exactly...
I want a tiger with wings.
Full, silky, white wings.
Majestic, but an ultimate powerhouse. 
It will protect me,
And let all my potentials soar to their maximum.
Why choose half,
When you can have it all?
Why choose ground,
When you can rule the skies too?
I want a tiger with wings on my shoulder blades,
To show everyone,
Who I really am:
Aug 24

New pages

Imagine being a piece of paper,
A whole scrap book in fact,
A whole you.
Now imagine starting fresh.
Ripping off the pictures, 
Erasing the pencil marks,
Brushing off the glitter.
Wouldn't it be amazing?
We can't just start over everything,
That's not how life works.
There are still indents where we wrote too hard with the pencils,
And parts of the paper that have been ripped from when we tore off the pictures.
But it's still fresh,
And that's all we need.
You can add new pictures,
New captions,
Whole new stories.
And it's still you,
Right down to the smell of the paper.
That's what it feels like,
Starting a new school.
So refreshing,
So new,
So blank.
But still me.
Aug 24

Gone and lots of water

I've been gone,
Caught up in a wave of uninspirational nonesense,
And coming back,
Realizing how much I've missed,
I feel like a mother,
Who left her child,
And came back a decade later only to realize she had been forgotten.
Well I'm back.
A flood of unspilled words overflowing in my brain,
Drowning out everything else,
Until all I can do is lay awake at night,
Thinking about all the possiblilties.
I am a thunder of a thousand words,
Rolling up on the sand,
And washing away.
Jul 04

Another one of those random things

Author's Note: I'm not quite sure what this is, but it's random and I like it. I want feedback though, what do you think?
An apricot peach,
Kind of a dress,
Splattered with red drops.
And a news article,
Explaining the whole thing.
The kind of girl who makes fresh coffee just right,
Paired with a good old fashioned type writer kind of girl clacking away the the heat of a New York summer,
On the other hand,
She's out of lotion,
So she had to go to the store,
And somehow got distracted by the fine customer service employee,
Who suggested a different kind of lotion.
The new kind smelled like peaches,
Which reminded the good old fashioned type writer girl,
That she had to finish the story for her editor,
The kinda girl who makes fresh coffee just right.
It was hot,
The coffee and the city.
And the smells and sounds of the city seemed to intensify with every step,
Jul 04
fiction 2 comments challenge: Open

Little Cat

Open your eyes,
Little cat,
And investigate.
Paw through the dusty treasures of a long forgotten basement.
Knock over an old vase,
Pretending at being a ghost,
Much to the annoyance of your people.
Crawl under a white table cloth,
Thrown carelessly over a chair,
And battle the evil table cloth.
Find the box of Christmas decorations,
And whack a few to the ground.
Climb on a tipsy shelf, 
And create an avanlanche in which you just barely escape.
Chase away the moths from the moth-eaten clothing rack,
And take a tumble smack into an old sofa.
Open your eyes,
Little cat,
In the morning.
But for now,
Just stay curled up in the little wooden apple crate,
That you found yesterday,
When you opened your eyes.
Jul 04


Why I hate masks.
Because even though you can, actually breathe,
It still feels like you can't.
It traps me,
Keeping my face from the sun,
And letting me panic in a constant state of not being okay.
Did you ever notice, 
No one can see you smile,
Or frown,
Not even a laugh can escape from the masks.
You have to slip into a corner to fix it because every time you move your mouth,
It falls down a little,
And if someone were to see you fix it,
They would be all pissed off.
For some reason.
You can't blow gum bubbles in a mask,
So the gum just lays there, on the tip of your tongue,
Awkwardly waiting until the mask is taken off.
And the worst part about wearing a mask,
Is having to raise your voice,
And shout at everyone,
Even if your not mad.
Or else the mask,
Will take your already quiet voice,
And make it silent.
Jun 16

Friends, and Just a Little More

I was falling,
Fast, but in slow motion,
Realizng everything I was missing.
And they were busy.
So they didn't think to say hi,
And so I fell faster.
And then suddenly,
at the very end,
The last person I ever thought would come.
Gave me a virtual hand.
Picked me up,
And told me that he was there for me.
We safely landed,
Nothing shattered.
And then he said something,
That made me let go of his hand,
For just long enough to fall again,
But once again,
He caught me.
And for a fleeting second,
I thought we could go back.
Back to what it used to be,
I didn't even know if I wanted that,
But he didn't.
But here he is,
Still here for me,
Teasing and a little bit flirty,
Because that can't be helped.
And me knowing,
All the while,
That we will never go back,
But we'll never be just friends either,
I think we will always be,
Jun 09


The child known as former me always wanted that as her super power.
But now,
I just feel,
They're all to busy,
And I get it.
I'm almost all grown up,
I don't need as much attention.
But I'm lonely.
I just want to be heard,
I want nothing more than to be praised,
Told I'm important.
And I know they've said it so many times,
Just not now.
They're to busy,
And I have to say whatever I needed to say,
At least two times,
Before I'm heard.
And I'm always doing the wrong thing,
At the wrong time,
Except for those few,
Precious momments,
That allow me to be hugged.
Then I am wanted,
And then I feel special.