Poetry

Come on,

just another step.

Come on,

just another breath.

Come on,

just another swallow

of the pain that makes you hollow.

Just one more sweet smile

Imagine you are a grandma, whose favorite hat is an intricate straw number, passed down from her grandma, and crafted with loving hands by her great aunt, it makes her feel beautiful and young again, always putting a smile on her face.

The distance you put between us is beyond seen,

can't believe the length I've went just to get you to want me.

Now all you do is haunt my dreams,

making my thoughts slowly bleed,

I could worry about the little things 
The little things that don't matter
The material things 
The things nobody but myself sees

When I am no longer myself  
And you are no longer yourself  
Will we meet again?  

there is a sweaty girl in the equator

who sits in the fields of her farm, brewing eyes watching the cassava grow

she sits in the refreshing heat, a heat that caresses her cheeks and plagues her mind

Oh Earth, in your embrace we thrive,
Your soil, your sky, keep us alive.
You gift us trees and rivers wide,
With oceans deep and mountains high.

Tree branches scratch past my window

The breeze pulling them through the air

New leaves bud along their strong arms

The sky is clear, blue, and bright

my face is a cage

and the doves inside are suffocating

in a pile of their own shit

my arms are broken wings

and their featherless forms are useless

The seat was uncomfortably stiff and dirty, yet the only way to get home.

I write to shut out the world.

I want to get lost in my own worlds 

Not thinking about life and what’s happening in the world right now.

I write to escape to a whole new world where I have control of everything.

My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.