hardwood scars.

accidental pen scratches on the
table
birth marks of our
past
my mother told me life was not my
fable
and that relationships hardly ever
last

i’m coming to the end of
adolescence
am i supposed to ask for
permission
i seem to have left no
impression
but no one ever wants to
listen

i etch more memories in the
hardwood
does that make them
scars
i am not ready for
womanhood
even though it’s not
far

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summer.

summer came and went

took our innocence

with the soft breeze

adolescence;

she caught up with us

finally, after all these years

from hiding from her

 

we traded in our dolls

for mixtapes and books

our lightheartedness,

disappeared when we

fell in love someone else

and forgot to love ourselves.

our contented souls now

tossed with restlessness

new ideas, places, people

confused us

 

i see you sometimes

in a hazy dream

your eyes,

lost on some highway road

searching for the exit sign

your hands,

bruised from fighting

tinged with blood

your laugh,

the melancholic chords

echoing throughout the car

 

that’s who we are now…

lost, but still driving

searching, but never finding

and i’m still getting used to it