Jan 08
abigail.dixon's picture

Messy Room


It all starts clean.

A swept floor,
A made bed,
A clean desk,
A dresser full of clean clothes.

A bed becomes a solace of crumpled blankets and pillows. 
A makeup brush left on the desk for a second, 
Turns into a mess of eyeshadow and mascara.
One careless shirt thrown down onto the floor, 
Becomes a pile of colorful clothing that isn’t even dirty.
The floor once empty is filled with miscellaneous junk,
That you don't even remember how it got there in the first place.

A burst of energy,
A new thought of clean,
A light at the end of the tunnel,
Makes all the mess disappear.

Leaving the same.

A swept floor,
A made bed,
A clean desk,
A dresser full of clean clothes.

A endless cycle of accumulating mess
But who cares, right?
At least it's clean sometimes...
 
Oct 23
abigail.dixon's picture

Pumpkin Patch


I opened the car door, the cool autumn breeze hitting my face and the bright sun causing me to cover my eyes. I made sure my mask was on correctly before jumping out of the car. As my feet hit the ground leaves crinkled and crunched underneath them. The trees around us were bright oranges, yellows, and reds. Some were already bare empty. The farm was full, cars and people everywhere. Everyone had a mask on except for a few tiny kids. I grabbed my sisters and we made our way to a pathway made through a field of corn. The corn stalks were tall and looming, brushing against my shoulders as we walked. A few bits caught on my woolen sweater, I hastily wiped them away. The pathway was worn in and looked smooth from all the people who had walked it before. Reaching the end on the pathway we were met with a field of brown dotted with orange. Everywhere I looked were pumpkins. Small ones, enormous ones, yellowing ones turning rotten.