this song.

 

my life is not right
nor will it ever be
but all i need is this song
and drives to see
sunsets brimming on the skyline
and my life may not be right
but this beat is
and i think if i have enough money
i might drive with it on repeat until
i reach a place that makes me feel
like this

let me dance. let me sing. let me smile. 

i barely do anymore. 

 

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souvenir

i think we are window shopping because
i don’t have much to offer and
you might not want to remember this place
after we leave it
i bought you a snow-globe of us in the rain
you shake it to be transported when i’m not there

and every grasp of your hand
every kiss
every text message at dusk when i’m supposed to be busy
every poem
is a way of saying,
i don’t want to be just a souvenir this time 

 

lifetimes

it’s been a year

the summer sits uneasy in my stomach
we have never been friends
i cut my hair and look progress in the eyes
with my hands clutching the scissors
i sip chai tea and eat full meals
and draw flowers on my wrists where
scars lie dead in the snowy white flesh

it feels like a lifetime

fighting demons off in past timelines 

 

 

 

 

smoke inhalation.

have you ever seen the burning ashes of a home? once there’s a fire, the fire keeps burning, smoldering for days or weeks. the smoke sifts through the air, weaving in and out of the oxygen molecules. parents tell their children to stay away to keep them safe from smoke inhalation.

pain is somewhat like that.

in the end.

if i could be a fairy
none of you would see a wish come true
if i could be a queen
none of you would stand before me in my court
if i could be a enchantress
you would know the curses i say about you

but all of these things are of fairytales i was told
i live in my house naming my trees and ignoring
the way people talk about me
‘the crazy girl who lives down the street’
i walk barefoot
and i sometimes sit in the driveway
after dark to watch the stars for signs of life

i am the wolf in the end. forever a shadow to a world who doesn’t understand. 

 

cruel jokes.

i will be alright someday. she whispers that under the cloudy violet skies. her friends are dancing to the pop tracks and she’s desperately trying–she escapes to the bathroom–

finds her reflection and stares at her intently

she softly touches the glass wishing this was a dream.

reality is a cruel joke. 

stardust girl

i look at you in the bookstore and you’re reading poetry connecting us to galaxies. we’re calling it research but we’re just dissolving in a chemical wash of emotions.

yesterday. we weren’t always this close and i never took the time to find out why.

today though. we walk together towards something we’re not sure of. we’ve changed but i love who we are.

and the girls who crumpled in a fire–of mental illness, abusive men, afraid of who we were, and wallflower tendencies–found each other.

nothing is more powerful than us walking down to graduate together. here, with healthy relationships, loving men, unashamed of our quirks, and conquering our wallflower personalities.

that’s a chemical equation even i know could burn you if you handle it wrong.

i smile at you in the bookstore and grasp your hand. i am holding onto this moment.

my stardust girl.