Poetry

There once was a lake 

In love with the moon, 

Astonished by her voice, 

In love with her melodious tune.

She would sing and shine.

It's December already

I've been alive for over thirteen years

over thirteen years of learning and growing

making mistakes and accomplishing feats

of finding myself and uncovering layers in not only myself

There are days and nights

When I still think of you

And I smile

Because even if you’re gone

I know you’re happy now

You never truly leave your hometown

You carry pieces of the past in your veins 

And you begin to reminisce when you bleed

In your darkest moments

You are the same child you were all those years ago

Before there was a bud preparing to breach what was not

Before one had to swim through the aether

Before the everlasting Eclipse shrouded all.

The flower brakes through demanding water and life

I'm sifting in the sand:

Ma said there’d be seashells.

All I have to do is simple,

that’s what I’m told.

Cute swimsuit…
 

check.

I thought you didn’t care.

You laughed the same with everyone,

spoke easily,

walked away like nothing stayed behind.

So I told myself

I was imagining it—

the way your eyes lingered

front lawns

frogs 

crochet projects

and tears

bring mind to your

fairytale girl

she laughs like a poet would (and does)

and moves my fingers

on the ukulele strings

three and angry/says the moaning sky/they follow you/then play the music/that sticks in your head/just so they can cackle/and watch you squirm/they cater/ to our lady of the underworld/the fates/give to none/and take from all.

I've been trying to work on myself

On my mind

On my heart

On my interior

But no one sees that

You can't photograph how pure a heart is

Or how smart a mind is

How good of a person you are

my walk home.

the 4 p.m. sunset already lighting the shamash on the horizon,

melting the mountains like orange wax.

lunch with my friends, onion rings & coconut yogurt

So Sunday was the first night of Hanukkah 

And there are still cops 

Outside the synagogue 

And there are still people who look at us

With murder in their eyes

And there are still shootings