star

star

NH

15 years old

Posts

  • Lavender and Gardenias

    Her room smelled of lavender and gardenias

    As we lay under silky rays of sun

    And danced around the truth in long, snaking sentences,

    Words falling over one another until they

    Became nothing, only syllables

  • nevermind, then.

    and the pale pink is fading from the morning sky

    the same way the words from the song i sang about you

    under my misty-cold breath

    died on my lips. i wonder if i would've waited forever,

  • Essay

    By star

    summers before

    I haven’t been to upstate New York since I was ten years old and we drove away from our house there without looking back.

  • I hate the sunset tonight

    Why won't the sky explode in a burst of orange-yellow-red radiance, turning each moment golden? Or fade into lavender laced with blue and whisper-pink, the world muffled and soft around the edges?

  • One of Those Girls

    I can't shake the feeling

    That I'll never be one of them

    Girls with lives made of honey and laughter,

    Girls with someone who looks at them

    Like they're laced with something unknown and magical,

Loves

  • A Day To Remember

    The play begins at a school auditorium with Harley, Mei, and Grant working on their lines on stage, Harley practicing dialogue to Mei and Mei responding with the two standing on upstage right, Grant is testing his sound cues he made

  • this is not about water

    it was like a sink that was overflowing, built up and up and up.

    then it was drained; the pipes rusted over; the slight drip and drip and drip.

    tantalizing.

    then the water rushed like geysers do, hot and momentarily solid.

  • i am a poet

    i see things that no human ever should:

    the intricate coding of life

    an emotion held by the gaze of one person to another

    a tear falling silently that helps grow a daffodil.

    i am a poet

  • Come On

    Come on,

    just another step.

     

    Come on,

    just another breath.

     

    Come on,

    just another swallow

    of the pain that makes you hollow.

     

    Just one more sweet smile

  • generational

    My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.