She earned the title Nine Days Queen,
But hitherto, she was just Jane.
Just Jane, and she had no idea
That when she married the son of a duke,
A plot was forming around her to steal the crown.
A crown she did not yet wear,
But inherited when the King was gone.
She rose to power instead of Mary or Elizabeth
Through an amended line of succession;
She was never meant to be Queen.
The plots and plans and goals of others
Led to the end of Lady Jane Grey.
Mary conquered the throne with little effort
And Jane was one of many to be sent to death
By the woman history calls ****** Mary.
Nine days was the length of Jane’s reign,
Unscrupulous were her advisors.
Just Jane, she had no idea what she was:
A pawn in the games of those around her,
And she was never meant to win.
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 2:24 AM UTC
I miss a specific feeling that I only got in spring 2019.
I cannot pinpoint what it was.
I have reread the same books, done the same things.
But the specific feeling has never returned.
Sep 2, 2021
Sep 2, 2021 at 2:00 PM UTC
Sometimes I find myself wishing for more;
That I could make something better than before.
Everything I’ve done is a one-time exception;
I face myself with thorns rather than acception.
Surely my successes were merely chance!
Ideas don’t come to me like they did in the past.
People say they see talent in me, I see nothing—
Then again, would I even know I was good at something?
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 10:33 PM UTC
I’ve always thought those long apologizing scenes in movies were overly dramatic and unnecessary,
but oh, how I feel the need to run through the rain to your door and let the words come tumbling out!
Jun 18, 2021
Jun 18, 2021 at 5:49 AM UTC
I think I like my reflection;
at least when I’m alone.
But when there’s other people to compare myself to,
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 12:29 AM UTC
These poems I write, they’re my escape,
though from what I do not know.
My troubles seem to evaporate
the moment I let them show.
I write about love, which is ironic
because I’ve never had a lover.
I used to think maybe I was sick;
for I’ve never longed for one either.
I write about death when I’m feeling down
so I can cry to something new,
but thinking to when I lost real tears,
maybe they weren’t mine to lose.
Even now as I write this down
- my headphones on but paused -
I wonder where my motives are bound,
for I always feel like a fraud.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 1:03 AM UTC
we sit on the floor
and peel tangerines
and feed them
to each other
i can almost taste
the summer heat
and the foreign
sweetness
of someone else's
mouth and teeth
like last weeks' laundry
blowing in the wind,
things softly float away
ever so slowly
we twist
and turn
in a dreamlike state.
so the sun's speckles,
stars, and softer skin
will always deceive me
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 12:43 AM UTC
It feels surreal to be here now
when I stood at this spot years ago.
Only then, I was happy,
and now my thoughts are bittersweet;
for all the things I’ve gained have surely come with a cost.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 12:41 AM UTC
And just when I thought I might drown under these waves of sadness,
You showed me how to swim.
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 3:06 AM UTC
When I left, we promised to stay in touch.
I remember for months we’d send emails every day, keeping as close as possible.
On our birthdays we’d post photos of us smiling for all the world to see.
“One of my closest friends” the caption would say.
“I miss you so much” my comment would be.
I seem to have skipped years between then and now, because I lay awake wondering how we’ve grown so distant.
The last time I emailed you was two years ago, for Christmas. I told you I would call later.
I never did.
I think your birthday was last week. I wouldn’t have known if not for my phone showing me a photo of us at a pool, “seven years ago”, holding plates of cake.
At some point I stopped wishing you a happy birthday, but I can’t remember when.
At some point you stopped telling me your plans for the holidays. At some point I stopped thinking about you every day.
Sometimes I can go months without missing you.
I hate it.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 3:08 AM UTC