i am falling
trying to catch the hands
of the old analog clock
father time has not yet forgiven us
it's all going to fast

no
no
no

i want to go back
dancing with bare feet
not knowing, not thinking
the clock ticked too fast, back then

now it goes to slow, and yet
so fast
tik, tik, tik

i cannot remember half of the things
i did yesterday
it's nothing but a blur of missing pencils
running until i can't
and wishing i could go back

i am falling,
falling
falling past some of the best opportunities
i want to go back

tik. tik. tik.


 

My brain finds every little fluff of cloud in the sky.

I think it's because part of me wants nothing to be forgotten. Not the little fluff of white, nor the large, flat cloud that's laid like a blanket across the sky. I enjoy searching for the small things, looking at the different shapes of the mulch, or counting the leaves on a flowery bush. Looking at the overlooked. It's satisfying, in a way. Looking at the things that aren't quite considered 'beautiful'.

Like the clouds that cover the bright stars. They just want a moment to shine, but instead they just annoy the watchers. Focusing how it's still something that is there, a part of this universe, and doing something. It's such an odd feeling. I enjoy it, though. Knowing I'm acknowledging the overlooked. Knowing that I can see that it is there, rather than just turning away from it because it disappoints me. Strange.

it's one of those nights
the ones where nostalgia
is at it's strongest

it feels like before
before what?
i honestly don't know

before...
this

this
this
hand sanitizer, masks, and 6 foot-tape

i want to cry,
i want to hope this is all
just a dream,
something i can forget as time moves on,

but no
this is real

tonight,
it feels like a night
where scooter wheels rub against pavement,
and spring sports have begun,
it's warm tonight

this whole year
no, it  can't possibly be a year
has felt so real,
like it was never different than this

and yet,
it feels like a fever dream
so unrealistic
we're a science fiction movie ourselves, aren't we?

on to the next day, i suppose.





 

 

More orbeez! :)

My sister made a huge tub or orbeez, so I took a ring light out and did some fun lighting with them! Not the best quality because it was taken with my phone.

Short Poem Collection 
Written for school. Didn't want to post them all seperatly, so I put them all in here. This was a prompt for school about rainforests and how they're being cut down. I chose to write some poems. :)

Noises of the Forest

Small songs laced

With the gentle breezes

A bird lands softly on a branch

Singing quietly with the rustling leaves

Watching the world below her

A relaxing tune

Accompanied by the soft beating of wings

And the croaking of bright frogs

Peaceful

They are interrupted by an at first gentle hum

Then it erupts into an ear shattering groan

A tree falls

And all is silent

The song has fallen quiet

Except for the loud wails of the human machines

Intruding on the gentle song

Of the rainforest

~~~

The Rain Forest

it's everyones and also mine,
chipping bark and a hanging branch
amber leaves that drift to the weeded ground
a forgotten sweatshirt sits at the trunk

limbs tired from climbs
from gloved hands grabbing at the too-weak twigs
from kicking at the trunk
and leaves pulled off by bored fingertips

it's everyones and also mine
because i am not the only one who sat on the larger branches
who flicked off small, tired ants
and picked off the red berries

i wish i could hear its stories
hear it tell stories from the other kids 
who call it their own
i could listen for hours

it aged with me
from picking up their older sister
to finally sitting at it's base
while waiting for the car to come

it's everyones an also mine
because everyone called it their own
but it's still special.

i like this classroom
i like smelling the hand sanitizer on the way in
and thinking
i won't have to smell that in my seat

i like looking at the penguin figures and stuffed animals
imagining the kids who gifted them
to the teacher

i like reading all the inspirational quotes
(sometimes laughing a little)
and reading the posters that plaster the wall

i like looking at the family photos
watching the clock tik, tik, tik,
and staring at the microwave, jealous that we can't use it

i like sitting in the corner
because when the teacher is talking
i can sneak in a page or two of reading

i like looking out the window
watching the sky
daring it to snow

i like listening to teachers rant
mainly because it's about real things
not things that others might glaze over

i like this classroom.

Coiled on the windowsill
watching as the snow falls down
from a leak in the clouds

a tail like an old grandfather clock
swish, swish, swish
giving the occasional thump on the wall

someone splattered the unwanted colors
and she was caught in the mix –
she is only black, brown and white now

small breaths fog the glass
steam like the hot cocoa being
passed around the table

nose pressed against the cold window
almost as though she can touch the feathery frost
that lines the windowsill

satellites sit atop her fluffy head
twitching at the smallest sound
always listening

collar purple like the old wrapping paper in the basement
or the dried out flowers on the counter
or the little girl's coat, except it is not speckled in snowflakes

still, on the windowsill
stomach rising up and down
gentle, calm.