Poetry

i stand 

heels sinking into the wet sand beneath

the tide rushes up 

passing over my bare feet

the water

clear and cold

Orange vans and

The green ones with

Gum bottoms I

Got in seventh grade and

Loved to the near death of,

Yellow chucks and

My sister's hot pink ones,

Blazers with

Yellow swooshes and pink soles,

where the soft grass meets the sea

is where you'll find her

for eternity now. 

young and alive in vivid shades

of every color

i long for the times

of snow angels and sledding.

how free we were,

way back when.

we slipped down the hill,

narrowly avoiding several trees,

and mr. wilkins,

You didn’t notice

you didn’t notice when I stopped brushing my hair,

when I got two hours of sleep,

when I only wore long sleeves.

But you did notice when I stopped talking to you,

Today,

I saw a poster on my math teacher's door.

It said, You never know what somebody's going through. A little bit of kindness can brighten up their whole day! 

Star spangled

light speckled

bright flecks against dark

red

our blood

white

the favored color of our skin

blue

our limbs

our bruises

Why does it feel

Like happy poems

Are harder to write than

Sad ones?

Like when you're feeling good

The inspiration

Feels minimal

And harder to express

What do you think?

Big feathered wings 

Almost alone

In the middle of the ocean

Soaring through the sky

Or maybe swimming through the waves

When I grow up,

I want my own house.

Not to big, not to small,

But enough for me and a roommate.

When I grow up, 

fallen ashes, soot-covered letters
little bullets fly through
stained missing pieces
 
slices through
throat tightens
swirling, racing, losing hope
 
gently, seeds fold into the ground
peace lilies blooming

Finding hope can be hard sometimes, in this world where people are trodden on with little thought, and certainly no apologies. 

But I still try. 

Every day.