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Josey Jun 4
The world feels strange, cold, and distant
a million miles away with no intent to stay
Th world feels cloudy, fuzzy, and intrusive
Aggravated and agitated
Tired and restless
moving too quick yet frustratingly slow
The heart beat of the earth comes and goes
Waves splash and retract
Building back together after falling apart
I stare vacantly at the ocean a piece of art
Emitting vibrations like ancient wind chimes
Reconstruction as my mind rewinds
It’s strange how your view of the world will shift and change
Molded to fit a standard that’s been prearranged
Strange how your values twist and contort
No longer a decision but a last resort
This is my first poem after not writing for a long time It’s about how as you get older the world feels less inviting and you feel more lost it’s about missing the security and innocence of childhood
Josey Apr 2020
I'm floating above and watching
when did the sky darken?
when did I stop paying attention?
when will I come back down?
quarantine mood
Josey Jan 2020
My pretty little bumble bees
Follow be around
Somewhere close by
they are always found
They never stray
Even when I die
My  body put to lay
My pretty little bumble bees
Will watch me decay
Not for the right reasons
part of me believes
Grief comes in seasons
But for them it won’t
They committed treason
Their loyalty set in the security I provide
Not in who I am deep inside
I treated them well
But even I know
I never really liked them
They were just for show
So go love a different flower
Sniff some different trees
I wish you all the best
My pretty little bumble bees
I wrote this during class today the idea was stuck in my mind and then I typed it out on the computer. It's a metaphor for friends you have because if they weren't there you'd be alone (friends for show). I hope you like it.:)
Josey Oct 2019
It’s dark- but for now it’s light
I blame it on the lightning strike
It flashes so big and oh so bright
Then all at once it’s out of sight
I’m in a car and it’s not raining but lightning keeps striking and so I wrote a poem about it
Josey Aug 2019
How did Emily Dickinson do it
Make her poems sound so natural
Did it come to her like breathing
Or like a craft she had to master
A life in solitude but a life with a head full of tragic poetry u amaze me you crazy elegant catastrophe
Josey Aug 2019
my birthday is just days away
but I really wish it wasn't
I want to wrap it up like a present that I want to open but mustn't  
I just want it to stay where it is
like a heavy stone in a rapid river that never drifts
and in another season when I'm ready i'll open up my gift
its really too bad I can't put my birthday in a box:)
Josey Jun 2019
I hate her
I hate how she’s a clumsy bubbling river of awkward
I hate how she’s so overweight and entitled
I hate how she’s so overrated and so hated
I hate how she doesn’t listen and is so defensive and hateful
Her nose is so long and covered in acne
She’s let herself go at just thirteen
Being around her is just depressing
I don’t want her in my life
But every time I try I’m too scared
But most of all I hate how she’s me
I’m gonna try to improve who knows how long it will last :)
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