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Anya Oct 2018
Sometimes,
When you sink
Into your mattress
As you nose your way
Through that white sweatshirt
With,
Speckles of brown paint
From when you were painting
Your shed
Your hair splayed
Everywhere
Fragrance of
That new shampoo
Silky, smooth
Just warmth
And softness
So much,
So,
That you just want to melt
In
Forever
Anya Oct 2018
I,
Over
Analyse
Over
Strategize
Over
Fantasize
It popped into my head and it's so true.
Anya Oct 2018
My mom got me a pair
of blue jeans
I never used to wear
Buttoning and zipping
was a pain

Then we got a dress code
And jeans
Only,
I could wear
But not blue
Too casual

And so they sat forgotten
...
Until a few years later
In a rush
I grabbed something
to wear
and it was
...
...
...
My blue jeans
And you know what? I don't look half bad.
Anya Oct 2018
I know,
I've got a lot to do
I know,
I'm *******
...
But,
I'm
THRIVING
Makes sense to me but kind of strange, make of it what you will.
Anya Oct 2018
I'm fine
I'm pretty sure
I'm fine

I'm normal
for the most part
I'm not super different
I don't necessarily stand out
I'm that nice girl
who's kind of a nerd
A sort of vague
baby bluish
hue
in your memory

Except for those
who I am close to
who see me as more,
splatter painted orange
which happens to be my least favorite
color
and tiny splotches
of greens
and yellows
then if you look way down
deep deep deep
like the deep blue sea

I'm fine
I'm pretty sure
I'm fine

I began writing poetry
due to loneliness
My obsessive
reading
had put
tantalizing thoughts
in my head of what school
best friends
crushes
life
SHOULD be
but wasn't

I would notice
every little thing
a drop of a pin
would mean
a world of difference
in my head

I'm fine
I'm pretty sure
I'm fine

I'm smart
But lazy
I don't spend
enough time on
what I should
I'm too privileged
I complain
(As I seem to be doing now)
I don't understand
what it's truly like
to not
be

I do as I please
It's not
that I'm not a hard worker
But it's like now,
when I know I have
two essays
and two
speeches to write
(And science homework)
But,
here I am
writing poetry instead

I'm fine
I'm pretty sure
I'm fine

I've repeated that,
how many times now?

I wonder what got me started
on this furious
ferocious tangent
...
I think it was...
another poem I read

About how poets
have something wrong
with them or other

I began thinking,
what about me?

Who's to say?
...
...
Probably me
Because I'm me
And I get to decide
who I want to be
...
Is what an optimist would say
Cheesy
Not cheesy
...
I'd
like,
to believe
...
...
I
need
to believe
...
...
...
You know what?
***** it,
I WILL BELIEVE
Um...all I know was that it was me talking myself into going from uncertain to determined but I'm really not sure where I went with that. Hope it's relateable or gets you thinking!
  Oct 2018 Anya
Maya
your eyes
are the ocean

salty tears
are its waves

bitter storms
are your temper

and lonely shipwrecks
are your rage.

my eyes
are a forest

feathered lashes
are its oaks

shady glades
are my sadness

and weary deer
are my hopes.
Anya Oct 2018
Sometimes,
I can be,
quite
an airhead

And at those moments
all I can think
is:

My amazing ignorance
strikes me dumb
...
literally
It popped into my head and I wrote it down.
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