Poetry

I really hate it,

being the one who messed up

the one who ruined the relationship

the bad guy

the person someone vents about because I was someone they used to love

we all have weapons 

Today I saw my sister

the way she used to be—

not because she changed,

but because I remembered.

She was just there,

messy with noodles,

doing nothing special at all.

And somehow

this will be

the first 

and the last 

dance 

we'll share 

I'll be wearing pink

riding high on a childhood dream

waltzing 

like it's 1945

What happens if I fall in love

And no one's there to catch me

What if I give them the world

And they ask for the universe

What do I do if falling in love

Is like free-falling but not knowing where

Anger. 

Anger is a thing I am not proud of.

Yet it happens, where I cannot control what I say or do.

The day is soft and silent.

 Except for the quiet chirp of the crickets,

 and the lonely breeze. 

The pond has no animals to swim in its glory.

Loud and noisy

the 8th grade jury had taken over the partially empty classroom

with nothing to do

no work

(it was the second day after Thanksgiving break)

playing cards dancing through the air

Walking to the path unknown 
I hold unto the universe I knew 
But eventually I knew soon I have to let go 
For every weight in my hand has to fly away

Tears

for this show

for this character I love more than

any

             freaking

Over and over the ride awaits

A carriage good and sound

A go, to go, forego, we go

and now the round spins!--

tilts on it's axis no more or,

freeform expression a painting perhaps

I am tenacious,

I prevail.

Though the dark void surrounds me, I ignite a fire inside and shine.

Yet - shadows grip me in their hands.

Flame, rage, and anger consumed, ashes I become.

the east is enveloped in blue dark

the plane that carries you

diving into the abyss 

while the west appears to be engulfed in flames

a simple view from the deck

of a slow moving boat