Poems · writing

Peaceful Observance

I want to fall asleep in the sun

Full of warmth and comfort

Impeded by no one

I want to feel the breeze on my skin

Surrounded by flowers,

Pollen-headed bees tumble lazily in.

I want to watch their slow dance,

Entranced by their diligence, their inability to wear pants,

And on the tops of their silly-heads

Two little antennae bumble about

Looking around for the next bloom to sniff out

(Do bumblebees have noses?)

There are questions I suppose(s) that will abound,

Human nature itself is sort of tumbling around.

And in grief, I think, we know this,

Though when that familiar friend leaves for the summer

We pretend not to notice

He was never there.

Without a care, I lie among the roses,

Prick my fingers on the thorns

I will never pick them.

I watch the bumblebees tumble around

Stories · writing

A Conversation

I feel stuck here, sometimes.

“Where?”

Earth? I guess?

“Couldn’t you just leave?”

I mean, sure, but what if I get to space and I get fat from carbon dioxide inflating my body or something

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

You don’t know everything. Plus I might end up missing home probably.

“Have you ever left?”

Not really.

“Then how would you know?”

That sounds like a trick question. I did say I wasn’t totally sure.

“Well, if you want to leave, but you don’t want to go to space, maybe you could go on a vacation.”

Doesn’t that cost money?

“Why would I know that.”

You’re supposed to be super smart!

“Like you said, I don’t know everything, and I choose particularly not to know about money.”

Oh.

“So what are you going to do?”

I don’t know. Probably just stare at the sky for a couple more hours instead of everything else.

“I see.”

You can sit with me if you want

“Sounds like an acceptable plan.”

Poems · writing

Exhale

There is no point,

Most of the time.

Even when life is lovely, I can’t always

Bear it.

Who’s the winner?

Maybe winter, in its deathly state.

Who, but a season cloaked in mortality can put a value on life.

What joy, though, must the flowers feel

What relief as petals thaw

And breath is drawn at last.

Poems · writing

Sara

My teeth scrape across my glasses

They prickle against my cheeks

I squint and I sigh but I try not to cry as they poke the inside of my eyelids

What a horrible sight to see!

A girl with such teeth like me!

In the wrong place, upside of my face, where fluttering lashes should be!

Winking is so very painful.

Sleeping is always a gamble

Butterfly kisses? Don’t get me started.

I tried it once, now he’s dearly departed,

And all that is left here is me


This is a completely silly poem I wrote to prove a point to someone. I thought you guys would get a kick out of it

Poems · writing

A Message

I woke up one morning, seventeen, and a ghost had left a message for me. Ominous words written down in a digital hand, that I have since transcribed to paper. I’ve never been one to believe in visits from another realm, and indeed any “experiences” I’ve had since then have done nothing to recreate the feeling of utter violation and dread I felt that day, reading words that I knew were not mine.

Yet, something about it.

“Where was I half the time?”

Felt vaguely…familiar. The structure of the poem wasn’t my style, but the language seemed close to what I’d written in the past.

Had I somehow found a way to send a message to an earlier-version me? And why 3:29pm? Why hadn’t I noticed it that afternoon instead of the next morning?

I know how crazy this sounds, but I just can’t get it out of my head. Its been almost six years and I still think about it. Nothing I’ve found online can explain where it’s from, they’re not lyrics, not a quote, it’s like they conjured themselves into my phone for me to find and no one else.

I’m attaching a picture from when I wrote the words down in my notebook. I don’t like looking at them too long because they make me feel a little sick, but I’ll copy them below, too, in case my writing was a little shaky.

EDIT: I’m realizing that the original, below, has three opening lines instead of the two I had written down initially. Operator error? Or has it changed again? I need to look into this.


Where was I half the time?

Where was I half the time?

Where was I half the time?

All these colors

All these colors

Haunting my heart

Haunting my heart

Where is my mother?

Where is my father?

Where is my mother?

Poems · writing

Lover’s Descent

Orpheus, I’ve often wondered, why did you look if you knew your love was behind you?

But time and distance, silence and pain are enemies of love.

You feared she was gone.

I understand now. That longing, burning sensation of loss. You won’t know if you’ve made it until you see the light, or turn around and watch your life taken away.

Small mistakes tumbling down and piling up

Unfortunate lies soon discovered bury us under their once insignificant weight

Where were we living that we were so free?

What ever gave us the idea of exception from pain?

A child’s naivety

A Romantic heart

We’re torn apart

I do miss you.


I forgot to post yesterday! That’s my April Fool’s prank, I suppose. This is one from a couple months ago