Last night,
I thought I saw a shooting star
Falling from the heavens.
As it descended,
I wished I could go to space
And leave the solitary
Confines of my room.
I found my telescope
In the closet;
I brushed off the dust
And turned it towards
My bedroom window,
And to my surprise,
The shooting star
was just an airplane
Returning dutifully
to the earthen floor.

Sometimes life gives you more than you can handle 
Sometimes you can't figure out what to do with all the pain you feel because you know the right thing will hurt more 
Sometimes you need help with just existing because someone hurt you so bad that even that hurts 
And no matter how many times you hear the right thing, doing it will take too much out of you 
Sometimes being alone is the scariest part of feeling this way because when you're alone there's no distraction
No matter how hard you try to trick your mind into thinking about other things it goes back 
So here you are again 
Sad, alone, and scared 
So you turn to the only thing that's always been there for you 
Writing 
You pour your heart into these words like somehow it'll make you feel better 
But deep down you know this is only another distraction and when this piece has been finished you'll go back to feeling the same deathly way you did before

I remember it perfectly, I was sitting on the bench playing with the loose ends of my scarf when a little boy in a snowsuit walked up to me.

    “Can I sit?” he asked. 

    “Oh, sure,” I said and moved to my left.

    “Thanks a ton, my legs are tired.”

    He spoke softly but with intent like he thought out all his conversations before he had them. His voice was high and he was short. His boots dangled a foot from the ground, not even close to touching it. 

    “I’m James,” he said, looking forward at the kids on the playground.

    “Hi, I’m Kathy.” 

    “Cool. How come you’re not playing with them?” he asked and pointed toward some teeter-totter kids.

    “I don’t know them. I don’t know anyone.” I answered, “What about you? How come you’re not playing?” 

six too fast

it creeps in—

crawling its way up my esophagus 

laying heavy on my tongue

the bitter bile burning the cave top

sizzling sicklets of blood bouncing

off taste buds and settling in the 

concave caverns of bone

a small pool for the acid soldiers to rest.

my stomach churns, 

expanding insides to ripped seams,

IV fluid building up in the corridors of flesh, 

my eyes are fading and someone is saying something somewhere but 

i can’t listen because the inside of my mouth is raw and bloody

and full of phantom sores 

and my heart, pumps one beat too slow.

then six too fast.

second time’s the charm. 
 

 

From beneath my waking toes
sprouts
(earth's hair)
whisper,
chilling the
eloquence of my
tongue
into a luminous silence.

The epiphany
of light,
gaining
momentum,
spiraling throughout
my curls and curves,
widening deeply
into my thighs and
breathing
my lungs for me.

Dragonflies
spread their
iridescent arms
and take on the wind.
Daring great breezes
to slip
upon their bodies.

Watch as dawn
awes you
once again,
why would she come back?
She is as
ineffable
as
rain.

We are
the
bread
without salt.
The wine
spilt from the
goblet.
The body
with
no
dirt
smudged
underneath
the
skin.

Sister Earth,
your flowers are beautiful.
So are your falls of water
and volcanic breasts
that feed your children

 

I am Leona Smith,  the only daughter of parents with four children. With my heart open to everyone to love and share. My arms outstretched, reaching out to everyone and those in need. Friends, I’ve got a good couple of them, there I can bring out my true self. My love for music and animals fit perfectly with my violin talent and ability to play comforting music for dogs like my own. I love reading, and of course books! I think that people who don’t like school, books, and the library, are mentaly insane. I even have a dream of my own to be a middle school librarian and author to young adults. But for now I guess that I just want people to see me as a listener, an advice giver, someone that they can just spill all the tea with. But after all, I am only me because everyone else is only them. You can’t change who you really are, only who you want to be.

 

I like to hide in the shadows of things,
The dark linings of storm clouds,
And the forboding shadows that dance in the wind.