Posts
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Where it’s Quiet
Rain patters down on doorsteps
Houses, roofs and windows
Every where it clatters down
Diminishing the rainbows
Houses moan and creek
Groaning with agony
Sidewalks take the pain
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Claw Machine
We all remember being little kids
And going to the arcade
Every time we went we would try the claw machine
Putting in a quarter for the chance to get a small toy
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I’m From
I’m from a place of heritage
Nationalities blending in the air
I’m from a place of buildings
Reaching towards the sun
I’m from a place of rain
Where the sun is a legendary occurrence
Loves
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A Letter for Everyone on YWP – One Last Time
Dear YWP,
The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13.
The second, 15.
I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people.
And this is the last letter.
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Actor
We're all actors
Every one of us
pretending, acting, faking
we've all done it
Fake smile,
Fake laugh,
Fake happy,
Fake sad.
I've bottled it all up, I can barely feel real.
What's real?
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Taylor Swift
swift locks of golden hair belonging to—
a girl once invisible that now has a place in this world,
guitar stained with teardrops,
that is worn out by playing her song.
golden fireworks blazing from the sky—
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Gold
the lifting of a tender brush
dipping it in a swirl of gold
painting the lush scene
with fine flecks of rose gold;
the love of a tender soul
