poetry
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Christmas is different this year, With so many friends and family missing from our table. So many stories left untold, Lives left unlived. Things lost that can never be returned. Still we sing Christmas Carols, Wish good tidings, And quietly pray for a better year ahead.
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Ten years ago, I doubt I would have thought of myself here now, Where I am now and who I was in that moment are markedly different. For that, I am proud. The me of ten years ago never thought herself worthy of time or love, stuck in those last few moments for so long.…
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As I head into the hardest month of every year, I’m thankful March was so productive. It flew by in a blur of homework, work, and writing, but I’m glad I was able to accomplish as much as I did. March Results Writing Edit One Short Story I didn’t quite edit a short story in…
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I cannot believe another year of writing has come and gone! This year has definitely had its ups and downs, but I’m happy I’ve been able to do what I love in writing and creating. December Results One Short Story As much as I wanted to write a short story this month, writing was a…
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Thank Goodness November is finally over. I usually love November for the intense joy of writing, but this November has kicked my butt in too many ways. I’m excited we’re now in December, a brand new month, with brand new goals, but that also means the year is wrapping up. Time to get my butt…
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March has been absolutely crazy, with a lot of weird and bad news. It seemed like everything seemed to consipire against me completing my goals and making progress on anything really. The whole month of March was not a good writing month, or even a good school month, and I felt like I was just…
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I want you to be proud of me, See the change I’ve made. I hope your heart melts When you see me riding in, On those white horses, Courage blazing. But instead, The drifts get deeper as I drown, In utter embarrassment.
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The little boy soldiers rush at each other With armor of mistakes and the pain of being alone, Losing their only love, Having their hearts torn from their chests. They don’t use swords or shields, Sharp tongues and well thought out excuses their weapons. The older strikes first, The first blow with the most dangerous…
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Write a poem called “The End” it cannot be about death, a break up, or the apocalypse. When she pens the words “The End”, It’s like saying goodbye to an old friend. One that’s lived with her in her head, Taken space in her home and bed. When she writes the words “The End”, It’s…
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Ten years of friendship, Three years of dating, One year engaged, It’s all lead to this: My wedding day. I should be ecstatic. I’ve thought of this day since I was a child. Six years old, playing with Barbie and her perfect specimen Ken. Her dress was always perfect, So is mine. It’s…
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Beeps. Ringing. Underwater. Pain. Pressure. Ringing. Can. You. Hear. Me. Now? …No.
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This is a poem I posted on twitter in response to a podcast back in August of 2019 I want you to be proud of me, See the change I’ve made. I hope your heart melts When you see me riding in, On those white horses. But instead, The drifts get deeper as I drown,…
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To you, The man I’ve known since we were children, The one who has grown up into such a wonderful man: With you, the days fly by in laughter and sweet kisses. The nights glide by with sweet nothings and delicious delights, With you, the companion of my dreams. When we’re apart, I crave you.…
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A lot of the time, as writers, we work on pieces for long periods of time. Novels, short stories, even poems can take years and years to come to completion. Sometimes, we tend to get stuck in the middle and think there is no way out, especially since middles are characteristically the hardest to write…
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Sometimes, I turn into a monster. I catch a glimpse, And I don’t recognize myself, With those fangs, Those glowing eyes, Or the talons that curl forth into the darkness. But being a monster has its uses. The fangs to bite back any remarks that could hurt too much. The glowing eyes to see through…
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I walk the path in sunlight, Nature singing it’s sweet song all around me, Cradling me in her arms, As all else melts away. Here, There is no frustration, No let down, Or sadness. Here, There is me, My feet on the path. Nature, Singing me to peace.
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I’m taking them back. All the times I cried for you, All the times you made me cry. I’m taking it all back. The joy, the pain, the fury. You thought my anger was the worst You could face? Welcome to my apathy.
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Creativity, The elusive creature, The one that comes in the dark of night, And the bright mornings, When I have other things to do. Eventually, I will set a trap and catch you. Eventually, I will pick up a pen, And start writing.
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Sometimes, I set goals, And something slips, And I forget. Sometimes, Daily becomes weekly, Or monthly, Or never. Sometimes, I prove myself wrong, And work though the failure.
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Most days, I feel like I’m floating away. Like I’m dissolving into nothing. Like the air is being sucked from my lungs. Like everything is pulling me apart, Piece by piece. Like everything I’m working on, Working toward, is just floating away. Everything is floating further away, The longer I reach for it. All I’m…