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submission for next year's challenges :D
Describe your home - outside or inside. What about it feels like your home, or not? What makes a home in your mind?
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that poet feeling
does anybody else get that feeling deep in their chest, sharp like it's begging to come out but also soft as in fire soft, embers in a hole in the ground?
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poppies are the color of blood
this president can turn even the solemnest of holidays into an opportunity to say whatever he wants. the gravestones crumble in their fields of poppies listening to him speak. all uppercase. all lies.
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& i can't stop thinking about how four men carved in stone actually matter
i'd like to think that the founding fathers, the framers, the men who wore wigs & makeup & helped make all this a possibility for me, would look at our country, at the cherry blossoms refusing to bloom next to the white-columned house engr
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middle school chorus concert
we stood on stage in black & white eyes tired but we sang til tomorrow anyways // they caught our eyes as it ended raised their hands to clap but i turned quick away convinced our performance wasn't worth more than // the quiet glint of confid
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And What Must They Think of Our Golden Door Now?
the statue of liberty was brown once, an unprepared American girl blistering in the sun as if our Constitution has torn sharp green papercuts into her skin.
Loves
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Misfit Kid Summer
I look at the empty kiddie pool in my backyard
In the Midwest summer
My friends used to come to my house
So they could all get in it,
But they don’t like to swim much anymore
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lost packages
her mail and packages
stacked up
like she’s gone on vacation
like she’ll be back to pick it up
i bet if the postman knew
that the house is forever empty
he would throw it away
like it meant nothing
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Yesterday
yesterday
to you i was nine years old
with a black hurley hat
that never left my head
the hat that you would take
and try to hold it far above
my reach knowing i could never get it -
ripples
where do ripples come from
i wonder
these little
escalating things
perhaps they come from
the speed boat
a few paces out
sharp short
and jagged
or maybe
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the gift that hope gives
they’ve seen me in passing
without even realising
that hope is what makes me
able to stand underneath the californian sun
hope lets me feel
the ground beneath our feet
the breeze against my cheek
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When the boys grew up on sun and waves
The sun didn’t kiss these boys
It hugged them
The way you would with your best friend before
Leaving for a long time
It hugged them and
It made their skin the color of a caramel
And their hair like the sand