If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.
If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.
If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.
If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?
If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
I used to never want to draw,
now all I scribble is your face.
I used to write sad poetry,
now I spit love poem after love poem like a copy machine.
I used to hate the smell of coffee,
now I go to my local coffee shop everyday, just to wrap my fingers around a warm cup, wishing it was your hand instead.
I used to not care about wine,
now all I drink is Sangiovese, pretending I'm sitting with you on your family's winery.
I used to drink for fun,
now alcohol has become my drug so I can try to blur the image of you.
I used to sleep peacefully,
Now I have to take a sleeping pill so I don't lay awake thinking about you; too bad you still appear in my dreams.
I used to have my anxiety in control,
now my chest tightens and I get an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I see you.
I used to not even look at your face,
now your face is all I search for every time I'm going places.
I used to be laid back,
now I've become an overly obsessed maniac making sure you're not someone else's.
I used to be myself,
now I'm not sure who I am anymore.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 9:46 PM UTC
I’m nervous to be with you,
Little fireworks dancing in my stomach.
I’m nervous to speak to you,
Afraid that I’ll end up speaking in a different language.
I’m nervous to hear you,
Something so foreign yet so familiar in my dreams.
I’m nervous to smell you,
Will you smell more like the cappucino you swirl in your cup each morning
Or more like the panettone you help your mamma make on Sunday’s?
I’m nervous to look at your eyes,
To see those beautiful chocolate brown occhi stupendi stare right back into mine,
Little do you know I’m swimming them.
I’m nervous to see those perfect lips,
Lips that I would drink in like the red wine I swallowed like a pill,
To try to forget about you.
I’m nervous to see your face,
A face that I would recognize with my hands if I were ever blindfolded.
I’m nervous to touch you,
Even the slightest brush of hands would make my body tingle.
I'm nervous for you,
what will you think of me?
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
It finally happened but I'm still walking like it's just a dream.
Like it didn't actually happen.
You were perfect as always.
Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect demeanor.
When I saw you walk past me, I said not again.
Not again would I let you slip away from me, because I
was done being a ballerina.
So as gracefully as you entered, I caught you at the exit.
You acted as if someone gave you a double fudge chocolate
cake for your birthday when I told you who I was.
Baby it made my heart melt and right then and there I wanted to
give you all of me.
But the best thing was, I felt like I was being set free.
No nausea or anxiety.
In that moment it was just you and me.
And that connection that I had felt like I had imagined became
as clear as day.
Maybe it's all in my head, but I have never seen you waiver...
this chiseled knight had a ***** in his armor.
Because you seemed nervous, and what makes me even more queasy is
that perhaps you were nervous because of me.
Darling, whatever it was, it pleased me even more to see you
act as sweet as honey.
And im questioning everything once more, because perhaps you really are
the one for me.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 12:23 AM UTC
It's like we were destined for each other but weren't meant to be together.
Like we're playing tic-tac-toe but you keep giving me x's and I just go "oh".
It's like I want to believe you don't care,
but how can I even come to that conclusion when my breath catches in my throat everytime I hear, see, and feel you...
when I haven't even given you a chance to play devil's advocate.
It's so much easier when people reject you, harder when they remain silent.
Like two trains, we stay parallel on our tracks, so close but never touching. So close, but never touching.
It's kinda funny how that one thing that makes you happy also made me intoxicated so that my mind could be fuzzy and I could finally get the courage to talk to you.
It's kinda sad how you don't even have to say a word to make me ***** several, carving me like a pumpkin while my poetic
seeds spill out, one by one.
So honey, I'm waiting for the day where we can be amidst the hills of a luscious italian winery.
Your suntanned arms stained with the very soil that nurtures those sweet grapes, sipping barolo from our overpriced wine glasses,
even though I've hated red wine all my life but you put the red back into my life, so naturally I came to love it.
Waiting.
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
Your love is choking me,
I can barely breath.
Your fingernails are like daggers and I'm the bull's eye.
But you're playing with your aim,
hitting everything but the target,
allowing me to just barely drink air.
But the air I'm breathing is poisoned.
Poisoned by the stench of your ability to take
what you want and regurgitate the rest so ****
quickly that the only stable thing is my love, for you.
The way you murmur poetry in my ear, filling my mind
with colors I never knew were real.
Etching yourself into my crevices with melodic music
that makes me sway like a violinist and her bow.
Seeping carefully into my veins, as your frothy waves turn
into still oceans, lulling me carefully to sleep.
And I remember all over again why my heart turns vibrato.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 7:04 PM UTC
Today was treat yourself day,
but the only treat I crave is you.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 6:35 PM UTC
Perfectly imperfect,
I like your quirks.
Hair as smooth as chocolate gelato,
my boy from Montescaglioso.
Skin ain't bright like a tangerine (though you're sweet as one),
but as dark as the moon who married the sun.
Almond shaped eyes,
blaze without doping.
Arctic Monkeys were right,
I could't stop dreaming about you nearly every single night.
And that smile,
that god awful smile that releases like Frank's albums,
without even realizing that you're taking me with the tide.
Sometimes the world forgets to notice but,
Ti ricorderò per sempre
I will remember you forever
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
A daughter gives birth to a daughter,
Unknown and untouched, a stranger among strangers.
Her eyes are as big as the smile on her mama’s face,
Her being fills the tired and aching crevices of her mother’s body
As she soothes the pressure her mother has had to carry for a while now.
She looks at her daughter, really takes a look at her.
Her pale golden brown skin reminds her of the chai she used to make at home, the pungent aroma filling the entirety of the tiny bungalow cluttered with metallic pots and pans,
She still didn’t find uses for all of them.
Over here, there are strange phrases on these tea boxes, marked up with words like “real” and “authentic!” And it tastes stranger everything tastes so…bland.
She’s trying to fit into this movie poster with America as the Director and immigrants as actors, and the neon yellow flashing bulbs ceremoniously decorated around the word “diverse” because nothing feels right, even the clothes merely trying to cling onto her bare skin, as if they don’t know how to fit her.
Tiny movements and a tiny heartbeat,
And she knows why she came here.
Knowing that her daughter will never have to feel those salty tears produced by the paranoia of the unknown, making everything seem so bitter.
Knowing that tonight, and every other night, her daughter will be tucked under a blanket of opportunity,
And laying on a bed of dreams.
She stares out of the window, the warm summer breeze making her cozy and she soon blends in with the darkness of the night, hoping that everyday her daughter would be able to sleep as easily as she did tonight.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC
Love will remember.
When it's permanently etched into the veins
of the leaves,
barely clinging onto the branches of the trees,
waving not goodbye,
but until next time.
When it's nestled into the u-shaped symbol
our mouths make when we feel something
so tremendously warm,
that we cannot contain it anymore.
When it's powdered in the snow by our footprints,
keeping our bodies from floating away,
no fear.
When our cold breaths catch in our throats
as the words are frozen,
replaced by the sounds of our rhythmic heart
beats,
loud enough to replace our need to ******* scream
our feelings.
Cold bodies, warm hearts.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 12:07 PM UTC