Poetry

We run back to your house,

The lights are still on,

And they cover your freckled face,

Like it's the sun.

The grass brushes our feet,

And the wind catches in your hair,

It rings slow and steady,

Matching to my rocking.

A folded shelter forbidding the entry of you.

Blinking once-

Twice,

Awakening to days whose foggy mornings 

bow to the dark hoofs of the midnight horse. 

Covering myself in thick blankets, attempting to 

divert the cold that 

Icy feathers 

Biting frost 

Snow stained red 

With years we lost 

Freezing blankets of winter snow 

Gnawing hunger 

Kings brought low   

YWP is the reason I

Keep refusing to take off the nail polish

Chipped and speckled like stars,

Smiling when I see the flecks of gold

Within the flecks of turquoise

Blisters rub my skin,

Shed my bones,

And tear my fingernails to shreds.

Crippled into misery, 

I find myself dripping…

Farther–

the mornings are misty, 

cold and dark. 

my head hurts as I haul myself out of bed, 

put on clothes that clearly don't go well together, 

and set off through the fog of dawn. 

There are days when I fall asleep wondering about the line between stupid and brave.

Brave

Is a hero rushing into battle

Ready to fight

For their passion

Stupid

Is a hero rushing into battle

No one looks like a villain once dead. 

There is no threat in a lifeless body,

In screaming mothers and weeping daughters. 

Once exposed, his blood is no longer poison.

I'm not sure how I feel about this poem, I don't think it's really good but I really wanted to participate in this challenge. :)

All times my heart has

Broken into pieces

More often than not you will find language will bow for you

Put your palms on a notebook you filled as a child and with enough intention the push will bring up sentences and phrases you'd forgotten

One sentence, they wrote, and a hundred fingers set to keys and responded.