Poetry

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. 

What is a world without its Sun?

Without.

Warmth to lead seasons into a dance?

Without.

Gravity to pull the tides into longing?

Without.

Light to rend the dark?

periwinkle-blue light through my shuttered windows

my heart is racing but my mind is blank with things I don't know how to express

that k-drama I just watched stirred something in me

i live for moments

when the sky gathers 

my broken body 

tenderly within its gentle embrace 

when ebony clouds entwine 

with shining, radiant stars 

The gray area between dark and light

dancing in and out of different shades

sentimental

snarky

indignant

I am myself

and the world gets to

deal with it

don't hide my personality

O Romeo

my love

my life

my savior

I speaketh through my metaphors

I whisper my lies

Romeo, my dearest Romeo

sing to me, keepest me alight

Cut my nails so I can

ShOvE        them

In my ears

And wrapped up in a blanket

No one can    sEE me

here

But I can