Writing

it seems i have somehow lost my flair for poetry in the midst of college

the words bubble up and then fly away before i can write them down

i really do wish they would come back

after all, i’m having to hold in everything

What do you hope to do before you die?

Love

I hope to love

I hope to love so thoroughly 

So constantly 

So deeply

When I was six I longed to be twenty five

My mother had all these rules

All I wanted was to leave my home

To live on my own

To stay up late

It is a joyous day 

amidst a burdened world.

We cluster around stand mixers like crows

to telephone wire, make holy messes

Do I have a voice?

Bombs are falling constantly on cities

Children are lost to the other side

Meanwhile monsters hide in their mansions

I had a funeral yesterday.

A quick goodbye to

the person closest to me.

I can’t quite recall when she died.

It has been so long

since she was alive.

Why have I held on to

her lifeless body?