Poetry

What is this

you know what this is

it scares me

it's real

I don't like this

don't deny it

I don't know what to do about it

it's not the end of the world

at dusk

sun setting on an april day in paris 

I messaged you 

as if I was sending letters

by carrier pigeon 

to an enemy fort 

hidden in the alps 

     I am having a dream about the senior class graduating.

     It is a beautiful day

     And I am watching from a hill

     Sobbing as the hats fly off

I hate that I am only loved when you feel like it,

like I'm lovable but only when there is nothing better,

you miss me but you just miss having me as an option,

you wish I was there but only when nobody else is free. 

you make me feel like

it's okay

everything is fine

when i'm freaking out

when i'm nervous or scared or feel like i did horribly

you're always there.

you try to call even if you're too busy to

Wordless.

Stage lights sparkling on my skin

descending down steps for performers

for the people before me

people who take great joy in what we do.

A day of rehearsal

listening

Winter caught my Christmas lights 

and froze them into icicles— 

now even the cold knows how to shine. 

Feeling lost.

Feeling down.

I have yet to feel the warmth of the sun.

I sit, and I stay, alone, away from everyone.

I feel isolated.

I feel afraid.

This world we carry on our backs gets heavy sometimes 

our arms ache as we stare at the path ahead, 

a path we can't see an end to

pieces fall off and we wonder if they were important

My body heat

my absurd body heat

reflecting back at me off of you

warmth.

My arm 

reaching around you

like I've wanted to for so long

now I finally can

My dog,

Her fur like snow,

She protects and loves us.

Her beautiful, gentle heart is,

Her shine.

Give me a sign.

A sign that everything will be okay.

Give me a sign;

That we’ll be able to work through the pain.