Apr 06

The lettered girl

I am bleeding words
That have been trapped up inside of me 
Stuck in the darkness
Of pulsing red veins cycling through my heart.
My blood is full of black ink
Mixed together in a puddle of misunderstanding
That would take a million years to puzzle out.
Slit me open and you'll find letters
Tumbling through space and time
In a thousand different languages.
My words hurt you don't they?
They hurt you because they tell you the truth of what you've done
They hurt you like your blades hurt me.
Truth hurts
But only to those who've forgotten how to tell it.
Apr 05

Ocean of Loneliness

We are all alone.
We all fight the tides of loneliness 
But are swept away by the roaring ocean.
Our hair is full of salty waves
And our screams are smotherd
Before they matter
And we feel all alone
Awash in a sea of sadness.

I'm here and I know you are too
Reach your hands out and let your fingers close around mine
Bring me to you
And the riptide will carry us to shore.
 
Apr 04

The sky

Sometimes I just stare at the sky
And wonder what’s out there.
Humans are enclosed in a small bubble we call the atmosphere
But outside of it is a great expanse of space waiting to be explored
To be mapped
To be found.
Somewhere there is someone else
Lying on their back in cool grass
Staring up at their sky
And knowing that there is someone else
But never quite putting their finger on it.
Personally, I think scientists are going in the wrong direction with their theories.
Maybe they don’t want to be found.
But I know the sky has stories and I want to figure them out.
Mar 30
poem 2 comments challenge: Home

Home

I feel at home when I am lying in bed
The clack clack of computer keys tripping above me.
The wind blows softly over my wooden roof
And muffles my step-dad and mom's quiet voices.
My best friend and I had just FaceTimed each other an hour ago
And talked about all sorts of random things
While texting each other funny GIFs because we love to laugh out loud.
I feel so content because clearly I am loved
And happiness is possible.
My soul feels at home in my body.
I wish that everyone could find a place like this.
 
Mar 27

unsilenced voices

Stained chapstick lips
Against
Brilliant blue skies
Moving 
Without sound.
Crystal clear eyes filling with tears
Eyelashes wet
Mouth screaming words
That nobody hears.
The crowds creep in
Harsh and unforgiving,
Their ears clogged by life.
Bright blue jeans in a cloud of black and white
Slender hands pleading
Listen
Listen
To the unsilenced voices.
Then the last words fall into 
The echoing noise of silence.
The last period
Compressing lungs
As those lovely lips struggle for breath.

Then slowly
Someone begins to clap.
And those iridesent irises clear
Because someone bothered to listen.

 
Mar 27

A small crisis

(I read Bekkah.FIR's post about graduating and had my own mini crisis. :) )
A little bit of cookie crumbs
A small bite of kindness
The falling snow whispering past my ears
A small glass of milk in my slender hands.
In four months I graduate middle school
In four years and four months I graduate high school
I'm getting older.
Fast.
But at least I'll always have half a cookie to come home to
And a warm bed
And a cozy bed.





 
Mar 25

An Apple

A wormy apple dead and rotten
The insides filled with flame
The outside looks a crispy red
But nothing is the same.

It is corrupted into monster’s flesh
Each hole an echoing tomb
Where fingers greedily suck the juice away
And seal this apple’s doom.

Twisted under countless feet
It resents the ground and tree
For all this sweet fruit really wanted
Was to grown and thus be free.

So remember when you pick your fruit
The inside may be cursed.
For each of us have our own worms
Some bad and some
Way
Way
Worse.

 
Mar 23

The optimism of obituaries

Some people read the sports
Some people read the political news
I read the obituaries.
They have always fascinated me 
Because they are so freaking optimistic for a death announcement.
It’s like the people who wrote are trying to let the reader know that it’s okay.
They were really happy when they died.
And I guess they were.
But we will never really know right?
Sometimes there are really young people in there
And I always wonder “Were they happy?”
Try reading the obituaries while listening to music.
It makes them really meaningful.
And maybe even happy.
A celebration of life.

 
Mar 23

Seeing is believing

Mar 23
poem 2 comments challenge: Frost

A little bee

I found a small and vivid bee
Laughing and sipping from a wildflower
It danced in spirals across the field with each passing hour.
Falling across the rays of sunshine, this creature could only see
The good in the world, because he only knew how to be free.
He found a drop of silver dew that he quickly devoured.
Its fairy wings buzzed upon his back as he flew through the willow's bowers
And alight upon the blooming cherry tree.

Then came the winter's cold decree
And the wind began to sour
He had to run and flee
Leaving scattered leaves of tea
I never saw him in the meadows that had began to deflower
But he left his tall stemmed towers.




 

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