i am learning to live without the idea of you
and i am trying to fill up the empty cave
in my head, the one you created when you
fell to the ground and pulled me down with you.
she talks to me about the paper snowflakes she plans to make this weekend, and so i refrain from telling her that my bedroom has been decorated since the day after thanksgiving.
it's 11:20 on a cloudy october night
and the world is falling to my feet.
the world is falling to my feet
as autumn leaves perform their death march to the ground
i feel like time is dragging me along by the hand
the way a mother tugs her child to preschool/
but instead of kicking and flailing and screaming
i am numb to the days that pass
note: i wrote this really quickly for a writing sprint in this summer program i'm doing online. we were given a list of words and then chose to write whatever we wanted while including all of the words.
I wrote this for an assignment in my English class. We listened to a spoken word poem, "How To Be a Person" by Shane Koyczan, and the assignment was to write a 5-stanza poem inspired by it, about how we can be better people this year.
I do not know how to bake
something from scratch,
like my mother’s cookies.
With her instinctual precision
and her habitual familial ease.
I did not inherit this side of her.
Darkness falls quickly now,
the feeble sky overpowered by the black pull of eternity.
Snow turns to rain, rain turns to mud,
and every month, I bleed and I cry.
It's almost Christmas, but
my heart so beating
soft in my chest where there is
waiting a snowy storm
I learned that butchering purity is ungodly,
yet on the silver platter, I see a snow lamb as fired slabs.
you, my brother,
are a paradox
of my happiest
and saddest memories
I could sit for hours and watch
crisp autumn air, whispers bear
hill crests only we know where leaves are so
amber and the sky is so golden.