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Anya Dec 2018
There are certain words
Like, peppermint
Vanilla
Coca
That just make you taste sweet
And warmth
A cozy afternoon
By the fireplace
On Christmas
Anya Dec 2018
Today I drank straight peppermint tea
Normally I’d sweeten it
With spoonfulls of
Sugar or honey

Today I read five chapters straight
Normally I’d take
Frequent breaks

Today I didn’t check my phone once
Normally I’d do it at least
Seven times

Well,
We’ve all gotta grow up
Some time
I guess
Anya Dec 2018
Poetry is for thinkers, I think
Those who’d spend their days dreaming away
Or those who, in a moment of passion
Scrawl down their thoughts
On little post it note poems
No matter the medium
Though, one can not deny
Poetry is for thinkers

Now, this past week I’ve been a doer
Typically, my lazy temperament
Would prevent this
But things happened
And more things needed doing
Without a doer to do them

And now my mind has switched
And all I can think to do is do
Rather than think to think, reflect
My mind has transformed
From a dreamland
To a bucket list
Anya Dec 2018
Awkward smiles
We try
Ha, ha, ha
Act like it’s all good
Touching the surface, greatly scratching, bearly a ripple
We easily avoid it, the clean, smooth, pristine surface
Skirt around disturbing it’s placed waters
Skirt around saying what really needs to be said
Instead we laugh, and smile
Weaving a masterpiece
Of our own

Some may blame this course of action but,
What if we do disturb the sleeping lion
What then
What then?
Are we afraid of
Our perfect facade
Perfect visage breaking
Shattering into millions of tiny pieces
Too small to reattach

“But if it’s broken can’t you just fix it?”
“How, Sweetie?”

“My mommy always puts a band aid on my boo boos”
“But it’s not a boo boo, it’s completely broken.”

“Then why don’t you just build it again?”
“How?”
“With legos! That way it’ll be taller and even better!”



Ha,
Ha, ha, ha, ha
Sometimes the answer is right there
Anya Dec 2018
Her words, a steady stream
I tried
To smile, stifling a yawn my glazed eyes wandering over to
Our bookshelf the recently bought ACT prep book aligned with a
More appealing Children’s poetry

“But then she was like”
My attention snaps back to the present
And I smile and nod
Like I understand, which I do, don’t get me wrong I just

May have forgotten to change the towel
And the clothes in the dryer
Oh also, i still haven’t gotten around to that essay
My current average really doesn’t sit well with me not to mention
The excercises for-

“And I was like ***!”
I unintentionally smile, the same story
The same pattern again
Never ending, seemingly
What is this, some sort of drama of a stereotypical teenage girl?
Is there secretly a film crew behind the scenes
A script inserted in our brains
Of this monotonous constant
Unending story?

But maybe if I’m truly unsatisfied,
The fact that I’m
Right here, right now
Feeling it, proves
That I have the capacity to desire change
And maybe,
Achieve it?
Anya Dec 2018
Rules,
Superficial rules we create
We confine ourselves within boxes
Answering a desperate plea for order
Some semblance of control, of understanding,
Shape, within shapeless mass, shapeless space
We build cages, chains, interlocked, intertwined

Yet, a common phrase
“Think outside of the box”
We acknowledge,
This cage
And in many cases it can be good
But we also acknowledge,
That to truly come up with something great, unique, to leave a
Lasting mark
One must think outside of the box left behind by our predecessor’s
Thoughts outside of their box
Which form our box

It’s like

Understand how to read notes
Before you compose your own

Know the color wheel
Before you experiment

Read books,
Before your write one

Maybe that’s where successful people come from,
People who manage to learn about their box
Well, before they manage to
Break it’s boundaries

And each minute, each second, each millisecond, each
This is happening again, and again
Our cages being broken
Reforged, anew

And through the internet, the media, mordern communications
Knowledge of this new box, these new boundaries
Can be spread

To pique another child or adult’s interest
Until the boundaries are broken
Once again
A cycle
On repeat

Until finally-



Or,
Is it like the universe,
Ever expanding,
Infinitely large
Without an end?
Anya Dec 2018
The taste of tension, like water, plain but there
Invisible, but felt
A faint undercurrent, a barely detectable wave

Physically, fine, well most of us
But mentally, a little shaky
Slightly off
Not easily detectable

Our lips graced by bald faced sugary sweet smiles
Don't look at the mouth, look at the eyes
Where the truth screams out at you
If, you can detect it

His antics, a little over the top
Her quirks, just slightly more enhanced
But even then,
You can't truly know what's going on behind the curtain
Unless you forcefully lift
But
That could possibly damage it
Completely
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