ella-rose-andersonWhisper

American
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PinkPink was your eyes / and the way I was willingly lost in them / Pink was the way your hands held me
18
Oct 26, 2011
Poetry is EverywherePoetry is everywhere. / Poetry is color, / it is a knowing glance,
25
Oct 27, 2011
Screw L.A. (In response to John Mayer's song "In Your Atmosphere")I don’t think I’m gonna go to L.A. anymore. / The city streets have had their fun / Abusing my feet when I tried to run
21
Oct 26, 2011
Sestina in ReflectionIt was you who helped me find the pink / and together we discovered what love / could be, then feared it was all a lie.
45
Oct 26, 2011
The Back DoorI always liked the back door best. Everything outside the front door was beautiful; a forty-foot tall tree I couldn’t identify choked by a vine that bloomed with purple flowers in the spring that reminded me of mom’s perfume and tiny little pokey things that would stick to your clothes in the fall and the cul-de-sac with an island in the middle that was perfect for 5am-stargazing. But there was also a paved road, a satellite television dish, a blue car parked out front. But walking out the back door was walking into a different world. You were almost immediately met with a barrier of trees which seemed to only allow entry to me and my little sister. We thrived in our world of pretense, sometimes for a precious moment forgetting the hell between our front door and our back door. In those hours we were princesses, pirates, adventurers, and we were free.
12
Oct 26, 2011
WavesTwo of them, pulling / A new experience? Not really. / But new, altogether, in a way
24
Oct 26, 2011
Where Writing HidesWriting hides inside of me, in my innermost thoughts and ideas. Many times it is never found, or never searched for. / Writing hides in my sister's eyes. There is so much there, but fear keeps it hidden, even from me. Especially from me. / Writing hides in the unsaid things between two friends who have more in common than either would like to admit.
16
Oct 26, 2011
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