Poetry

I look in the mirror 

Like any girl my age

But I'm repulsed in horror 

At what is on stage

I look at those numbers 

Wait for them to go down again 

114, 113, 112

Formerly titled "An Ode to A Wasteland"

Winter. A time of year we all know well.

A time of year when we hear the ringing of every bell.

A time of year when adults laugh and children play,

A time of year that lasts many a day.

solar-soft night because i stayed up whispering non-existent melodies to the dreaming clouds,

pierced the veil of daybreak with needle-sharp notes-

The attic always talks almost like it walks,

The sound echoes over and over always  getting bolder

The attic's always right, time to think twice, for when you do you feel blue 

BE YOURSELF

BE HAPPY

BE SMART

BE KIND

YOU ARE ENOUGH

ALWAYS REMEMBER

HAPPINESS IS KEY,

 TO A PERFECT LIFE

FOR YOU AND ME

BE HAPPY

BE KIND

Most likely to

Trip 

While sitting down

Most likely to

Speak

Without making a sound

Most likely to 

Laugh

So nobody cries

Winter so cold

It reminds me of the world

The snow falls 

Snow covering the walls

The flakes look so calm

As they fall on your palm

As cool as they look

I think I'd rather read a book

berry bear

or red fox

glowing in the always night-

always like a charm

always like a home

glowing berry skins

nail polish flakes

acid on the tongue of a

 black bear

or red fox

I write to relate,

and to speak my truth.

I write to prove I know pain,

and to see that others do too.

I write to be heard.

When the world becomes a deaf frustration,

I'm most likely to spend all night reading

and then regret it the next day. 

I'm the most likely to bring cookies for my friends

just to be the only one who likes them. 

I've never felt second best,

Being a twin, you get asked a lot of questions:

"Who's older?"

"Who's smarter?"

"Who's the favorite?"