Poetry

Sometimes I can't believe that you're gone

Sometimes it feels so unreal

Like when I tried on the cutest pair of jeans

My first thought was "I can't wait to show him"

When I tried new makeup 

What's wrong with you?

Why can't you take a joke?

Why don't you ever go anywhere?

Why don't you talk to anyone anymore?

Yeah, I know.

you get a line & i'll get a pole

honey - honey! july thickens, slows to a stop outside, get

your rod and line, the ones that used to be your father's. get

your heart from the closet and your coat from the floor,

This is my last sentence: We all belong here.

This is her last sentence: We all are loved.

This is his last sentence: We are a community.

This is their last sentence: Good will conquer evil.

Woven from feelings of happiness and friendship, short-lived as those feelings may be.

Woven from a cat’s meow and a dog’s tail wag.

Woven from ideals of love and compassion.

Woven from goodness itself.

This trail

this trail was too hard

way too hard

pushed me

emotionally and physically

in a way that left me nauseous

unable to breathe

shaky

I saw a photo of myself from freshman year

I didn’t love how I looked, cringed at it—a knee-jerk reaction to my ugly, green shoelaces—but not necessarily just because of my physical appearance

When you are old

Your skin will become like paper,

And your bones will be like the wooden ribs

Of a lantern

So that the world will see the light in your chest.

But I don't need to wait

Sometimes it's hard to write poetry

It's almost like the words get stuck

in the folds of my mind before they reach the paper

Or maybe I just can't describe

memory

The sun is warm against my face

The sky is bright blue filled with fluffy clouds

The flowers bloom in every shade of pink, red, and yellow

The laughter of friends and family fill the air

Do you hear our voices? Our voices longing to be free? Our voices that are suppressed time and time again? Simply because of our identities?

I hung in the sky, frowning down at the city below me 

Scowling because Peter Pan went away. 

I had stretched, and my body had run away 

In the years since then.