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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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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The April girls are all there in Heaven, Sitting in a cafe drinking tea. Or maybe they’re all raising hell, In some dingy bar. Maybe they’re up there, Chasing lives they wish they had lived, Making up for the time they lost. Maybe they’re watching over me and C, Making bets, Passing along the binoculars,…
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When I think about where I was two years ago (and one day), I think about how different my life was. I think about how I was on a completely different path, one where I put another’s needs before my own. I think about where I would be now if I had stayed on that…
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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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I thought I got away clean. No scars, No bruises, No pain, From the damage I caused. Too bad I was my own witness. Now all I feel is you.
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Get to know me, I know you can. I may look tough on the outside, Or bored, Or untouchable. On the inside, I am full of secrets. Just look past my hardcover To find the goodness inside.
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Sometimes rules are rigid, Hard lines, set in stone, that should not be crossed. Sometimes rules are limp, As easily arranged as wet noodles, Vague and malleable. Other times, Rules are set to keep us down, Keep us in place, Scared to fight for what we want. Those rules, More like guidelines, Should be crossed.…
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Nothing is ever free. Beware the offers, And the solicitations, And the sales pitches, To change your life forever. Beware the gifts, And the prizes, All to “better” yourself. They may all have free delivery, But you pay the price, With your individuality.
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My bag is packed. It’s sitting by the door, waiting to be swept away, Whenever I feel that you and I are no longer compatible. So say something, Do something, To make me believe That I can stop running. Give me a reason to make a home In you, And unpack my baggage for good.
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I was fresh out of the package, and you burned me with your influence. Fed me your lines and your rhymes, All in perfect time and cadence. You marked me with your ways, and your faults, so that whenever I do anything, I am reminded of you. Your rhymes and your cadences, all getting stuck…
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I feel I am molten, Lava bubbling and shifting just beneath my skin, Waiting to erupt forth in a brilliant spectacle of despair, And rebirth. My muscles can’t stay stagnant, My blood courses with new vigor, My body ready to awaken, And create something beautiful.
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Maybe you’re right. Maybe I let go too soon, Tapped out when I should have stayed in, Let things go when they got too tough, Gave up, Gave in. Maybe I am a coward, For leaving, For tapping out, For wanting to protect myself, For wanting to chase my own happiness, Instead of feeling like…