Even as we carry the whole world

On our backs, we

Breathe our girlhood through

Whispers and giggles at the lunch table and

Stars brushed across eyelids that have

i sit on the classroom floor.

the room is dark and cold.

i press my back against the wall.

the door is barricaded with a chair.

my teacher stands in front of it, as

Grass grows. 

It gets trampled into the dirt 

until it is dirt. 

It disintegrates and decomposes and falls 

apart, 

into the soil. 

After Jack Gilbert

i. So many people

Go through so much

And no one notices

in my heart, hope is a quiet thing
a pulse beneath rubble
soft as breath against marble dust.

it doesn't sing
it lingers.
it waits in the cracks where sunlight pools
on mornings the mist forgets to rise.

One day I hope to leave

this world encapsulated by a wall far too high for my eyes

to reach.

Looking up is an exercise

that twists my heart in the process

because when did movements 

To have hope is to have a crown,

A pendant of confidence,

An oath to a future.

Hope is beautiful,

Occupies the minds of many

In early days, the hearth still glowed,

With laughter rich and voices clear,

The windows whole, the garden sowed,

A haven calm and free of fear.

One day, I want to be as strong as my shadow;

waking up, running,

falling asleep, dreaming.

Made from muscled arms and soft angles. 

Having you is painful
Out in a world like this
People judge us for what they see
Everyone knows me but you're just a lover people hate to see me with.

We have planted our seeds in soft soil

but then the droughts came

and the soil hardened

cracked

turned on our seeds

and what was once a garden is now a deathbed

shriveled up

seemingly hopeless