Poetry

I can't sleep

I know I need to

Ugh, again??

Usually I have trouble getting to sleep

In the summer

It's hot

But the AC's on and my earbuds are in

Relaxing music

What's the problem?

He waits each year

For that one week of the summer

Where he can feel free

And finally be himself 

Kin among kin

Finding safety in their differences 

He watches the young ones

People describe blueish green eyes as the ocean,

or the sky,

or there favorite color when they don't know what to call the shade they see...

that's boring.

I love the way your eyes look,

making me want to dive in,

reach the depths of the shades of greens and blues of the ocean hidden behind your dark lashes.

Knowing I'd drown,

sinking to the darkest parts.

It's sort of familiar

You next to me

I can't tell if it's me being familiar to you

How you feel beside me

Or familiar to

Being pressed against someone on a couch

(this has happened to me a lot)

Again, we piled onto the couches

Facing each other

The librarians told us to keep it down.

Again, we talked and laughed

Learned all the new drama

Caught up to each other's summer lives

I look at the empty kiddie pool in my backyard

In the Midwest summer

My friends used to come to my house

So they could all get in it,

But they don’t like to swim much anymore

Lifejacket strung on the clothes line,

Still dripping with lakewater and smiles

From when I skied across the great

Puddle of light that sits in front of me now,

I looked in the mirror

And today

Instead of focusing on my flaws

On picking out everything I hate about my face

Instead of being my own worst enemy and self-critic

I looked

Really looked

At this girl

At the beginning of the year,

I lost myself

So completely

To the crushing waves of despair,

Hopelessness,

Sadness,

I am always angry

But usually I can put my anger away

This girl

Takes every conversation

By storm

Walks in

Not like she owns it

But like she knows what she wants

And there is no way around it

She will have it

This girl

Fighting

her mail and packages

stacked up

like she’s gone on vacation

like she’ll be back to pick it up

i bet if the postman knew

that the house is forever empty

he would throw it away

like it meant nothing