Poetry

I could dive into your eyes forever. Spiraling and spiraling forever into the widening gyre, it all feels blurry. Blurry but familiar, like something I knew in a dream or a distant universe.

I saw you today

And it felt like forever. 

Your eyes are like a poet's,

Everything fades when you're around

And I need you to know it. 

It's just a house, they all say.

It's NOT just a house. 

Not to me, it's not. 

It's my home. 

This is where I learned, everything.

I thought I was over you,

but I was wrong.

I miss you,

but your feelings are gone.

I still love you with everything that I have,

even though I know all I will get is a cold shoulder back.

fall isn't what you think it is.

fall isn't

pumpkin spice lattes and

smoky bonfires and

cinnamon candles and

your new maroon woolly cardigan that was on sale for

Thanksgiving or Halloween or whatever

I have always loved art.

All different kinds, painting, drawing, and literally anything ...

I have even been told I'm like a graffiti artist, because I draw over EVERYTHING

“I didn’t mean to upset you” 

You truly didn’t, did you 

I’m not placing the blame on anyone but myself 

You did this with who?

I gather hope in my pockets.

Shiny stones

smoothed by time.

I think of the bird

that flew free from her cage one day,

warmth,

pumpkin spice lattes

hot, spice-soaked coffee drizzled with a splash of cinnamon

coated with half-melted whipped cream, nestled by the delicate fire,

comfort,

your favorite cardigan

Every day when I see you 
 

Before school 
 

My heart feels 
 

Golden
 

I Love
 

Your face.
 

Your fashion choices.
 

Leaves fallen, trod upon, 

whisper of discarded dreams 

as they crack 

under your weight. 

It’s your world 

The first time I heard her voice I saw a library.  An enclosed little nook with a creaking wooden table, the color of the wood changing from honey amber to deep mahogany under the flickering candlelight.