She did not have soft hands Her hands were red. Her hands were a boneyard. Her hands were tired. But through all the folds and shapes Out of her paper mistakes She made cranes. She made them for the people she loved And sometimes, the people she hated. The cranes stood in her favourite places Or they marked “I would literally rather be anywhere else right now”. A blue one for Portland A red for Sanfransisco Yellow for, She stops. He always said he loved the colour yellow. Time withered on and she withered with it Soon, she was gone. And as if the people had nothing left of her They wepped. Yellow, he thought. He looked up through his sorrows A yellow paper crane Peered about on a windowsill What once blended in the crowd Now stood out like treasure Some say the paper cranes flew that day She would have liked that.
I. My Blood you have grown next to me my whole life and I have been a part of you for 16 years every road trip, every hockey game, every broken heart you kept me company at least it used to be that way that summer you left I learned what it meant to say you don't know what you have until it is gone it wasn't till after you left that I knew you were my best friend I still remember the first time you called that place of strangers and weird cafes, home it was the first time I knew you weren't coming back and the first time someone ever broke my heart without saying they did not love me anymore now when I was past your old room I see nothing but a grave and inside is berried memories that haunt my dreams but the real ghost lie in when I wake up and I realize that you aren't here anymore you used too laugh with me till I felt better speak as many words that I needed until I felt full again now I can't even get a text back letting me know if you're alright brother. but you had to grow up you had to go out and live your life And the fact that now it’s hard me to get trough the day Wouldn’t stop you I wouldn’t let it I will let you go instead
my brother has got to university. I am so proud of him. but its nights like this that would do anything to see him again.
love just isn't an option anymore no matter how many people I put first I'm always put second. call it bad timing or misfortune but I am a crutch a backup plan the left over never good enough never wanted and I wish I could be, for the people I love and for myself too. and all these thoughts still bring me back to the same night in my alley way, three summers ago when the first boy to ever make me a promise and break it told me I wasn't good enough and said goodbye before I could catch my breath. its the same winded feeling I feel to this day. that constant hole in my chest the lack of equally returned love
Bringing your name up in conversation feels like saying a ***** word in public. It’s unnecessary but at the same time inevitable It always will come back Like a swing No matter how hard a push That name will fly back harder than it did before
This morning I woke up to a gentle breeze from outside A song in my head And a poem in my heart I realized how gentle this world is It’s soft hands and light touch Most battles I face are inside my mind
its nights like this the ones that tear me up inside. I miss him so much. I want to send you a letter. its the same letter I have written so many times. but you'll never get to read it. im so sorry I hurt you goodnight.