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Lily Oct 2019
At the end, my hand
Nor my fingers trembled as
I grasped her pale neck.
I recently entered this in a Halloween haiku contest and wanted to share it with you guys :)
Lily Sep 2019
10:32 pm
You’re still at my house
Lying on my couch like you own the place;
I wouldn’t rather have you in any other place.
I mean,
We’re not just talking about the weather,
We’re talking ‘bout forever and together,
Your together with someone else,

But it’s okay, cause you’re here right now,
With me,
And I will have this memory to look back on
Later

Please text me when you get home,
Please tell me that you’re okay,
Please let me know
That wherever you go
We will always be the same, cause
You are my song,
You are my heart,
You are my everything,
And even though I will never be yours,
Please text me when you get home.

11:02 pm
You’re still at my house,
In my gravel driveway, fumbling for your keys
I tell you “drive safeLY”, and you laugh at me
Being the grammar police.
You open up your car door and my heart drops,
Panic sets in cause you’re leaving and
I don’t know when I’ll see you again.
You notice my fear and lean in and kiss me on
My freckled cheek and smile through the words,
“I love you”
And my heart beats a mile a minute,
And I don’t know how much longer I’ll last
Before I faint

But it’s okay, cause you’re here right now
With me,
And I will have this memory to look back on
Later

Please text me when you get home,
Please tell me that you’re okay,
Please let me know
That wherever you go
We will always be the same, cause
You are my song,
You are my heart,
You are my everything,
And even though I will never be yours,
Please text me when you get home.

3 am
You’re not at my house,
You’re at yours, you’re on your own couch,
And my eyes are heavy,
But my heart is full,
And my phone lights up with a text from you,
An angel emoji and an “I made it”
Are enough to make me giggle with happiness, cause
You’re home and you’re safe and even though you’re
Not with me

It’s okay, cause you’re here in my heart
With me
And I will have all these memories to look back on
Later

Please text me when you get home,
Please tell me that you’re okay,
Please let me know
That wherever you go
We will always be the same, cause
You are my song,
You are my heart,
You are my everything,
And even though I will never be yours,
Please text me when you get home.

I’m okay, cause
I have all these memories to look back on
Later
Hey!  So this is a song that I am in the process of writing; all of these words are pretty much set in stone, but I'm working on music to go with it.  Any and all thoughts are welcome! <3
Lily Sep 2019
Bring the buried flower,
Bring the burned out candle.
Bring the closed notebook,
Bring the ended hour.
Dig up the flower,
Strike the match,
Open the notebook,
Begin a new hour.
Bring the writing you’re afraid of
And regenerate it, and
Make it speak.
Scatter your poems left and right,
Because the world can’t wait to hear
Your words.
Inspired by Robert Frost’s "To the Thawing Wind"
Sep 2019 · 1.4k
confession
Lily Sep 2019
My words stick to the
Roof of my mouth like peanut butter,
Like white bread,
And no matter how hard they try,
They can’t escape.
Lucky to make it past my brain’s thick fortress,
Now they sit useless at the tip of my tongue,
Wishing to come forth but my mouth
Not forming the words.
My vowels languish in my throat and
My consonants sit listless,
All my verb phrases and direct objects
Lie in a jumbled mess,
Too disheartened to make a move.
They know that if they leave my lips,
Others will take them and cut them up,
Mince them like onions,
But the only person who will cry over them is
Me.
Eventually, too many letters will clamor at my
Lips for attention, and my throat will
Close entirely,
Never fessing,
Admitting,
Confessing,
The things I feel.
"I don't want to admit to something, if all it's gonna cause is pain" ~ Eminem, 'River'

I was inspired while listening to music today :)
Lily Sep 2019
Lovers, forget your quarrels and
Listen to the flower,
The breeze,
The finch’s tune,
And find the love in them.
Breathe
And win the fight within
Yourself
And then, lovers, your
Fight will be
A hundred miles away.
Inspired by Robert Frost's "Wind and Willow Flower"
Sep 2019 · 1.7k
pink moments
Lily Sep 2019
Roses grace the sky in a bouquet,
And a few fall down to me.
The last fleeting rays of yellow sunlight
Shoot up into the sky like fireworks,
Illuminating the beach for a brief moment.
A cool breeze whips across the shore,
And the sands drift in my face,
The sands that tell the stories of all
Who have watched these pink moments before.
The ocean whispers to me,
Its enticing scent pulling me in,
Saying, “the world is not so bad,
Watch this beautiful sunset.
Everything will be alright.”
The last rose petal falls,
And the clock reads 8:12 pm.
The taste of salt lingers on my tongue
As I turn and head for home.
The sunset says,
“Come back tomorrow!”
The inspiration for this poem was from this essay on NPR's website called "Pink Moments". Here is the link for the essay if you would like to read it (https://thisibelieve.org/essay/11439/); it's a gorgeous work that I did not attempt to copy but that inspired me to tell my own "pink moment" story.
Sep 2019 · 848
laughter through tears
Lily Sep 2019
4 am, tight hugs
whispered words, hand on cheek, and
your smile means all
Lily Sep 2019
In the dark
The beast,
The inward struggle
Is not asleep.
The cold creeps,
Comfort grows far away,
My heart doubts
But we arise with the day.
Inspired by Robert Frost’s "Storm Fear"
Sep 2019 · 981
Reasons to Stay Alive Pt. 2
Lily Sep 2019
Rainbows that appear out of nowhere
Cozy sweatshirts
Hot chocolate on a cold winter night
Musicals so good they give you chills
Movie marathons
Books that make you cry, make you feel
“I miss you” texts
Laughing so hard you can’t breathe
Pens that are full of ink
The smell of pancakes
A baby’s grin when you pinch it’s cheeks
Teachers who make their class enjoyable
Inside jokes that you laugh about for years afterward
Smiles from that specific person
Butterflies that land on your finger
A cat’s purr
When a piece of music you’re rehearsing finally sounds perfect
Hairties that don’t break
That perfect gift from that specific person
Receiving a letter
The smell of Christmas trees
Long, meaningful hugs
That happy baby sound
Creating memories with friends
The leaps and twists of talented dancers
Realizing you are early to the meeting
Your favorite TV shows
Adorable baby clothes
When you finally find a pair of jeans that fit
The relief of jumping into the cool lake on a blistering day
The smell of a new box of Crayolas
Feeling inspired
Writing poetry
feel free to put your own additions in the comments! :) For anyone going through a rough time; you are loved, and you will get through it. Stay strong <3
Lily Aug 2019
Sadder than any words
My thought
Comes softly down
Ending again at you.
Inspired by Robert Frost’s "A Late Walk"
Lily Aug 2019
These dark days
Are beautiful as
The bare, withered tree.
The birds are gone,
But the gray is silver.
I have not yesterday,
But I learned the love
Of the beauties of today.
Inspired by Robert Frost's "My November Guest"
Lily Jul 2019
One of my wishes
Was not
Withheld, that
I should steal away,
Finding open land
Where
Upon my track
I held.
They would not find me- they knew
All I thought was true
To me.
Inspired by Frost's "Into My Own"
Lily Jul 2019
Many a summer ago,
I dwelt with aching heart
Far apart
On that forgotten road
I hear
The small, dim, summer star
Tireless, but slow and sad
But among them all
She’s the only one that
Sings.
I've been reading some of Robert Frost's poetry lately, and it's just so beautiful, I decided to start a series based on this inspiration, called "'Frost'y Thoughts". :) This one started out as a black out poem and is based on Frost's "Ghost House".  Please let me know what you think!
Lily Jul 2019
The clock read 3 am,
And the street was snoring
When the station wagon bumbled
Into the driveway of the
House with the white railing porch.
Doors opened and slammed shut,
And he looked out the bay window
Towards the house next door
To see who had arrived at this
Ghostly hour.
T’was a girl, with seventeen years
Under her belt, same as he.
She sported a simple brown dress
That was pleated on the bottom,
And he noticed that her feet in those
White sandals were every bit as dainty
And delicate as the rest of her.
Her hair was tucked in a messy bun,
The kind it takes you hours to master
To make it seem like it only took you a few seconds.
He was convinced she hadn't needed practice.
The girl went to her trunk, and pulled out a
Large polka dotted suitcase, the size of
A true adventurer.
Looking closer, he saw how frayed the edges were,
And how the pink background looked almost white
Against the purple dots.
As she wheeled it around and began
Lifting it up the white railed steps,
He noticed maps sprawled all over the dashboard of her station wagon,
Of Wyoming, Utah, and Nevada.
He wished fervently he could see her license plate.
Who was this strange girl?
He had but a lowly Vermont license plate; why was she here?
The clock read 8 am,
And the street was waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs, and
The boy's head was once again
At the bay window, but a surprise awaited him at the house next door.
The station wagon was gone, no trace of it, and the white railed house
Might have even been the quietest house on the block.
The boy threw it away as a dream, but has never been able to forget
The girl with the polka dot suitcase.
Sorry I haven't been posting as frequently as I normally do! I was on vacation, which inspired me to write this poem, and now I'm back. I hope you're all having a great summer! <3
May 2019 · 2.4k
Shower
Lily May 2019
My only comfort as my tears fall with the water
Is the fact that I'm scrubbing away his hands,
His touch,
His lips,
His skin.
Washcloth against skin,
Red erupts from my pores,
But I don't care because
I need to get his scent off of me.
Just a whiff, and I gag,
My tears congealing in my throat.
Why me?
What did I do?
His hands were so soft,
But so strong, and
I could not escape.
Washcloth against skin,
I don't even know where to begin,
For he stripped me down to the very bone
And lay my soul and body naked.
His fault? Yes.
My fault? They'll think so.
Red flows down my legs because of
Washcloth against skin.
I drown myself in cherry blossom body wash,
The off brand kind.
My last thought before I stop the water is
"But I'm not even pretty."
A poem for all of those who are victims of ****** assault, whether male or female.  You are all survivors <3
Apr 2019 · 1.6k
Echoes (5w)
Apr 2019 · 1.4k
Re: Inspiration
Lily Apr 2019
You
Are the author of the book of your life,
You
Can erase words, delete chapters, write new endings.
You
Are writing your own computer software, and
You
Can create whatever programs you wish.
You
Are not restricted by what others say, and
You
Will never be happier than when you are being yourself.
You
Have more power than you think you do.
Own it.
Forward this email to someone who needs it :)
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