The past generations make me sick,
you tear loved ones apart and call it protecting the country,
you deport children that don't have any choice on where they live,
no family in the countries you say they "belong to,"
Let me tell you story
A story about a girl
Who had the same longing for adventure
As little Red Riding Hood
And the same urge for freedom
As Rapunzel
Let me tell you a story
About a girl
i can be good.
i won’t ask to be forgiven
for the nature of my narcissism
when i’m the one most affected by it,
living in my own body,
tolerating my own soul.
what if apologizing
i can focus.
i can hone into every texture
and let my skin absorb it all.
if i focus
i won’t despise myself in a matter of envy
i won’t cross my fingers and toes
for everyone i try to love
I'm a poet,
I'm a writer,
I'm a sister.
I'm outrageous,
I'm silly,
I'm weird.
I'm also not special
I'm not better
or the best
But I want to be.
When I open my window in the morning,
it's the same thing every day.
There's almost never anything new.
And it's kind of boring.
And it's not boring in a good way.
*lines in italics are from Jane Eyre
Are you apprehensive of the new sphere you are about to enter?
Because I fear
For the warm skin
It always seems that
In the unruly depths of each Alabama winter
I long for summer
For campfires and S'mores
And laughing louder than the cicadas
broke out a pen, not a pencil
i usually use pencils for english homework,
mechanical ones,
teal or purple.
but i guess it's different
with forgotten homework,
either rushed or
completed by chatgpt
I lay beside you
Your head next to mine
Only inches apart but some how you still feel so far
Like inches are oceans between us
subjugated to solitude eternal,
only perceiving and watching love,
maybe receiving it but never understanding it
never internalizing it
it bounces off. Doesn't stick,
unkept and unruly and unclean.
I don’t want
the hair tie on my wrist
it’s just a reminder
of how easy I was to keep.
I don’t want the flowers.
They died
doing exactly what I did:
staying too long.