Poetry

Moving mountains,

Falling fountains, 

Whispers of time,

And whatever is mine. 

Holding power,

A complex shower, 

The fall breeze.

The brisk cold air.

The color changing leaves.

All of which I am very aware.

The huge leaf piles.

The bare trees, with branches that could stretch on for miles.

The singing birds.

All is quiet

All is fine.

When it comes to love, there shouldn't be a waiting line.

Love is welcoming.

Love comes in many different ways. 

I had an idea

I wanted to spill all my anger into the page

so why is it always so hard to write 

34

An even number

A prime number

2

17 times

I can't count it on one hand

Not on two

Not even with my toes

And with a list of 34 felonies

We still elect

Him

A convicted felon

I woke in the middle of the night

Oblivious to the pain that would come in 4 hours 

When I woke up to my dad next to my bed a sad look on his face

My world shattered.

My Light shines every morning all year round

My Light lets kids play on the playground

Although it's gone at night it is always there 

The circus masters release the red beast,

its mane flowing, great fangs bared,

ready to take a bite out of the audience,

who convinced them to let it out of its cage

Drawn to the sky,

A magnet within a sigh.

The gleam I know all too well,

With words to say, stories to tell.

Wrapping around me,

Rooted in denial,

i wonder how many times he’s said i love you.//

i wonder how many flowers he’s gifted//, how many 

slow dances he’s danced, the ratio between//

They always welcome 16 in opened arms, halfway through the school year, maybe you're driving on the road by now

They say it gets better, sweet 16 will be the first of many great changes, many new things

It's too late to be awake.

Devastation crawls in the wake

of everything.

My eyes are burning

physically, actually

in no poetic manner

my eyes are burning with