You call me flower
you must like me how I am
all wilted inside
You call me flower
you must like me how I am
all wilted inside
Before you tell me
I shine
Like the moon,
Remember,
the moon does not shine
it only ever
Reflects
I had another
heart attack
today
In a moment
of panic
my heart was
gasping for a breath
that would never come
because it has
four chambers
and a want for
two lungs
to think these
necessary, life supporting
things
could be so fragile
and by closing,
tightening, the muscles
of my throat,
in a drawn out
two and a half
minutes
my brain, third wheel
tired respondant
could shut down
this whole
delicate operation
temporarily, or
permanently.
A summary is
how every part
works together
fitting descriptions
tailored to people
they were not made for
But sometimes
on that blue moon
that hangs from darkness
every other day
a Someone
trots along
broken gate
smile of quirks
and no definition
above their head
a broken clock
still ticking
making us all wonder
how you could fit
infinity
inside of a box
I am 40% girl
30% sugar
15% stardust
and the rest
has been hanged
sent to
the dungeon
because I
am a fictional character
incapable of holding
myself to reasonable standards
In the fourth chapter
I reveal my tragic
backstory
that makes your heart clench
and eyes roll
because it is something
you’ve all seen before
I am a worksheet
a mix and match princess
that all the girls completed
during a middle school test
I am 15% nine years old
This is where we
fall apart, when
the sense that
burns and
scratches are
creeping up behind
you, when you wish
you were already
thrown in to the
depths of the ocean
instead of
wondering how
cold it will be this
year, and thinking
your problems are
made up until you
see everyone
waving at you,
above the water,
smiling with the
slightest concern,
when you feel one
of them reach
down and slap you,
still smiling, you try
and hide the red
marks on your
cheek, and don’t
know whether they
hate you for that,
you certainly aren’t
okay with it, but
would rather bleed
under cover, than wait
for the crows
to see the blood.
Sorry if that was depressing, sorry I haven’t posted in a few days, I needed to take some time away from the internet, I should be back more often, thank you for reading 🙂
Do you ever feel strangely quiet inside? In the time you could be thinking so many things but your brain is the consistency of the clouds out your window and music plays at the back of your mind where you sit alone, in the middle of a room with the curtains drawn. A room where you could be dancing, where there should be laughter, and spilled drinks as thoughts pour from cracks in the walls while women stand on books so they don’t get their shoes wet. But instead it is still, the floor is creaking with water damage, and the power’s been cut off.
Is this peace? Or something else.
Home is my heart song.  Ever since I moved to San Diego, I have been meditating on the concept of “home” – which means something different for everyone.  The following poem will take you on an abstract adventure as I attempt to capture the essence of home.
The word “home”
paints a picture in your mind
An idea
Constructed by you.
home tells a story that’s true
it casts shadows on the ground
from which it grew.
home grows
and stretches
in all directions
but stays rooted.
Home endures.
Home buds and blooms
Reaching for the sun
through the sidewalk cracks-
Home persists.
home naps in a hammock
beneath the trees
and hums along with the breeze.
Home frees.
Home fills the stadium on a Saturday night
-Cheering- (Geaux Tigers!)
any excuse to throw a party
Home celebrates.
Home watches the clouds
and wrestles the leaves
-Earth breathes –
View original post 334 more words
Light,
like most
holy things
sounds lonely
because
to be
set apart
and to shine
is to be
able to
see, everyone
watching
without
understanding
but Light,
feels like
bed sheets
freshly washed
and folded
by a loved one
or the lamp
next to
a reading
chair
at the
library
The taste
is that of
your first kiss
in the rain
and what
the butterflies
in your stomach
are fluttering
towards
It smells
like the first
day of spring
and the last
day of fall,
of fabric softeners
and sips of coffee
on your way
to work
or how
thunderstorms
leave electricity
and your bare
arms, raw
and filled
with determination
or fear
But never
ever forget
how Light
burns, like
the first
bonfire
from that summer
when you were six
or stings
like the static
left on soft
sweaters
and old
carpet
Because Light
chases away
the dark
and in doing so
it might just
chase away
a little
of you
as well.
Never be ashamed
of your freckles,
People love the sky
for all its constellations
Don’t be afraid
to smile, with dimples
the holes in your cheeks
are gateways to your heart
Always remember,
brown eyes are
every colour
at once, the whole
rainbow, on your face
And know, that
no matter what
you look like,
we are all, wonderfully
fearfully
made, as humans
Nothing less,
and So much more