Poetry

"when the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie"

dean martin's voice booms throughout the house

as I lay on the living room couch

basking in heat from the wood-stove

to the tune of an over saturated

There are vintage looking posters in the windows

And they’re probably not old

But I’d almost believe you

If you said they were.

They’re next to organic candles

From the raspberry farm down the road.

Imagine if

Every book came with a key

A key that opened a door

Into the book

Into the worlds

That are your happy place

Escape from reality

Taken to a new level

The joy found in between the pages

We try to stay quiet

despite the class being

nearly empty,

silent.

Muffle our laughter,

lower our heads,

cover our mouths,

attempting to

suppress our stalling.

Difficult

I'm not a painter,
but if I were, you'd be my muse.
I'm not a sculptor,
but if I were, I'd only sculpt you.
If I were a singer, I would never run out of songs,
People would get tired of how my serenades go on and on.

I am four

and a self-proclaimed 

hero of bravery.

The plane whirs in my ears,

loud and incessant and monstrous,

but I sit as soundly as I can.

Solemn and stoic,

As an author I now pledge my allegiance to a free space, to not judge others for their fascinations.  

I wish to allow others to dream and bleed mine out on paper; A dream is no longer a dream with me, it’s a story.

Why don't we become Friends?

We can carry one another through storms,

and catch each other when we fall,

The only thing is:

I'm weak

and no matter how much I want to lift you up

I don't think I can

Aimee Carty. 

She's my favorite artist.

Her name is a swirl of blue and pink in my mind,

but her music-

oh, her music is such a beautiful blend of all the colors you can name.

i have trusted

myself.

i have trusted

my body.

i have believed

it will not bite back

that it will not feel the roaring rush

of danger in what is safe.

i have thought

when I was thirteen 

and scared of real life

I gave out advice like candy

showering my friends with hope

and watched them grow 

like sunflowers 

out of a cold, dark earth 

"We ignite not in the light, but in lack thereof,

For it is in loss that we truly learn to love."*

When we can feel,

All that is no longer there,