I can taste the huckleberries ripe on the branches
stolen from the fairy garden in the early summer
when the ravens weren't looking.
I stole a lot of things as a child.
I stole the UV rays from the sun,
tanning my alabaster arms
and freckling my shoulders.
I stole winks from boys in my third grade classroom
while the teacher had her back turned.
And I might have sold those winks
to other boys
for an extra juice at lunch.
Maybe I committed petty theft as a young lady,
taking the air from someones lungs,
screwing in their light-bulbs and
blowing a fuse.
I'm a thief,
taking the light from their eyes
and the bullets from their guns,
I stole smiles
and they never were returned.
a piece of the bitterness
You whisper sweet words
But to your surprise
My cheeks don't turn a rosy pink
It's does not move any nerve in me
You see it in my eyes
That your words mean nothing
They lack the power they once had
You could conjure the most beautiful
Words placed together but in the end
They'll be just Sweet Nothings.
The dark circles
Under my eyes
Tell the story
Of all those nights
I stayed up and cried
The scratches on my arm
Tell of those times
I lost my calm
On my thigh
And you'll see
Just what you've
Doing to me
She looked up at me
Through wet lashes
Beauty was all I could see
I wished I could stop her tears
"A pretty face like yours
shouldn't be tear stained"
Is she just a pretty face?
Is all this time just going to waste?
And in his eyes
I saw myself
Barely a ghost
I've been hiding
In the darkness
And it's starting
To take its toll
But the one thing
That's saving me
And my sanity
And the way
Sunlight on his lips
My skin at his fingertips
To my nothing
He deserves more
Than I'm taking
But he loves me
In the chains of our lives
Almost a whole
With a few holes
You are my holes
You and your body
Your eyes lips and hair
Your hands ears and back
What if you came back
Would it be what I know
Our slow warm and familiar love
Like not a single day apart had passed
I cannot focus on the past
When I saw you my mouth would water
When I think of you my eyes still water
Distance in mind and body
You were my beloved somebody
I was your beloved somebody
We had inseparable bodies
I need to forget your body
My name is Rachel
But others may refer to me as
Rach, Rachie, or Rae-rae.
I am nineteen years of age.
When I was a little girl
My smile was as bright as the sun
I ran and jumped and tumbled
I climbed trees that were so tall they touched the sky
And if ever I fell down
I picked myself up, still smiling.
It was when I was ten
That my smile finally faded
And my parents grew frustrated
And the day they told my brother, sister and I
That they weren’t going to be together anymore
Was the same day I fell
And wasn’t strong enough to stand back up.
Of complete and total darkness
Is what followed
And then half my face froze up
Stuck in a permanent state of nothing
A paralysis of the nerves
Labelled ‘Bell’s Palsy’
Was what finally motivated my dad
To get me out of there
And after a while
I must’ve been smiling pretty hard
Because the paralysis went away.
And now I’m here.
If I were to describe myself
I’d point out that I’m five foot, four inches tall, on a good day
When anxiety isn’t weighing me down.
Rarely do I ever stand up straight.
I have deep, dark brown eyes
That observe more than they can really see.
They remain hidden behind thick framed glasses
For they, themselves, wish not to be seen.
My hair is as brown and ordinary,
Long and untamed and always in the way.
I’d cut it all off, like when I was younger
But I look older this way
And my friends like it.
I spend most of my time blogging
Even though rarely does anything exciting happen to me,
But then, that’s what John Watson said
Right before he met Sherlock.
I love television and movies
I love video games
I love books
Because I love stories.
Listening to them
I’d never get bored.
I like books, their pages dry and crinkling at my touch.
I put more effort into procrastination than I do into any sort of work.
Death laughs, and life depresses me.
I’m afraid of a lot of things.
Sometimes I feel too much,
Sometimes I feel nothing at all,
And that frightens me.
My imagination tends to run wild,
And sometimes it’s beautiful
But sometimes it’s brutal.
Sometimes I’m just paranoid.
I think about thinking
I think about other people thinking
I think about other people thinking about what I’m thinking
I’m an over thinker.
Secretly I’m a hopeless romantic,
And I hope to fall in love without getting confused by the idea of it.
But that’ll happen when I’m ready for it.
I believe in the equality of all things, though I’m hesitant to say it’s achievable.
I know there’s good to be found in people
But I don’t understand why all I keep finding is bad.
I’m proud and prejudiced against prejudiced people
Jane Austen is my hero.
If you ask me my name
I’d probably stumble over it
Like I stumble over everything
Words seems to curl my tongue
They do wonders at the tips of my fingers
But die as soon as they cross my lips.
I get nervous when I have to speak
Or look someone in the eye
And I’m pretty sure my mouth has a mind of its own.
I like being alone but sometimes I get lonely.
I’m moody and temperamental, and a little mental
But those that care for me don’t mind.
I’m more inclined to listen
If I can sing along too.
I’m clumsy and uncoordinated.
I walk into doorframes and apologize.
I stub my toe and laugh
But other people’s pain makes me cry.
I know a few words in Italian,
Even fewer in Russian,
And they’re all slang or swear words.
When I blush my entire face is painted scarlet,
And my skin is so sensitive it’s sometimes a blotchy mess.
Unless I’m ranting.
Usually my thoughts make more sense
When I’m not thinking at all.
I am Rachel and this is barely scratching the surface of who I might be.
I want to draw the mirth from your mouth
Touch the merriment on your tongue
And share in its sweet taste
The laughter on your lips is nectar
The light in your eyes is youth
And with the joy you set upon my lips
I'll anoint every part of you
If I am lucky and fate allows, in my dreams I sometimes fall in love. The man is a mystery; a stranger of my mind's creation, with a name and face I cannot recall.
I awake disoriented, bathed in a warm and breathless afterglow.
I squeeze my eyes shut, try to chase the feeling, jump back into the world I left. Like paper touched by flame, the surreal emotion is singed at its edges by reality as I become alert and trudge on.
The experience quietly resides in the back of my mind, tugging at me for hours.