Poetry

I wish I was...

Beautifully sure of myself like Ae

Bouncy like M

Comfortable in my skin like L

Confident like N

Cool like T

Rain, a thing often described as “sad” but think about it. 
Is rain really sad? It feeds crops, cleans the earth? Does that sound sad? 
Think of it as sad, but if you look, like really look. 

I am sitting here by the fairy lights strung 

Through the interior of West’s bus

Listening to him sleep

Writing down everything that I want you to know

Butterfly kiss, soft against my skin.

Promises.

Cyclone of feeling, enveloping not just me, but us.

Anticipation.

Honey-brown sunset eyes, on my green hazel.

Confessions.

Today my friend asked me a question.

Would you rather be living a comfortable lie,

or know an uncomfortable truth?

I wanted to say, The truth. Always.

But what if that's not true?

my horoscope said i would lose someone dear to me,

you've never really believed in that astrology,

but i click on yours, and what i see staring back

Every night I dream of a door that would take me back to my past...

A door that would lead me to the old me, the me I used to be...

The dark winter months

How much longer will it take

For spring’s warm sunshine?

Waves crash on the shore

Roaring up with a large splash

Shoot all the bullets your cold visions desire,

shoot your anger away

to reel in the reputation you'll live with

until you die.

She wakes in the early morning

And stares at the wall across from her 

A sense of fear overtakes her

Beginning in the pit of her stomach

And spreading to each limb

Coating her in feeling 

There are some in this world who long to be gargoyles

grotesques and Gorgons with rough, jagged claws

hides thick and tough as stone

silently soaring through dark clouds

When someone is sick, we say they're on Death's doorstep.

But aren't we always?

People always act like we're so far away from death.

But really we're not.