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Angie S Mar 2021
would it surprise you to know
people have told me
they've never seen me without a smile?
did you know
i have one dimple?
everyone gets to see it,
plain as day
on my right cheek.
and when i find myself alone,
when i say goodbye,
see you tomorrow,
see you friday or monday or whenever,
and i am alone,
it disappears.
i guess
happiness looks particularly good on me.
i have always been
conscious of my appearance
after all--
i'm not me unless
i've got my dimple
on my right cheek!
the truth is,
nine years ago in a
solemn little office for
children that don't know how to be children
my mother was told
i have depression.
nine years of this.
i have memories that put that dimple away.
at what age should you
learn how to take a pill?
i had to learn it so i could be happy.
at what age should you
learn not to take pills?
at sixteen i wondered how many i needed
to undo the life i've lived.
how much food is enough food?
i measure how well i'm doing by
how awful eating food makes me feel.
what should i blame myself for?
do my friends really like me?
am i pretty enough for people to love me?
and why don't people stay?
why don't people communicate?
what's wrong with me?
what's wrong with me?
what's wrong with me?
i'm looking for love in the wrong places.
when i look in the mirror,
what do i even see?
let me put on some eyeliner...
...that's a little better.
originally written 11/12/2019.
i've been reading over past poetry. i haven't written in so long. i really, really miss it. but i'm not sure how to get back into it. maybe i should start with more stream of consciousness stuff.
Angie S Nov 2020
the ocean outside the window--
that clear blue hue that
reflects nothing to the eyes
but illustrates the heart--
turned to autumn orange and
some blue shade of red
so suddenly.

with my eyes i watched
as the light travelled against
the shadows of my textbooks,
inching across the table
until it reached its end horizon
and disappeared beyond the window.

that blue was gone so suddenly.
and the ocean came
to my eyes.
i very badly need to get back into writing poetry consistently, so i'm committing myself to one poem a day for the month. here's my first poem; it's just about how the fact that the sun sets sooner in autumn makes me sad.
Angie S May 2020
the sunset melting from
a light, lively blue to lovely lavender hues;
soft, romantic piano melodies and
sopranos harmonizing in the trees;
and quiet, happy mornings,
the sunlight tickling the leaves and then my window,
and then your eyelids, the outline of your profile,
softly rising and falling, dreaming
next to me.

if i had words for how i feel of these things;
the gentle waves of your voice like the ocean,
your arms washing over and enveloping me,
the happy crashing of your laughter with mine,
your lips like fragments of light on the water's surface;
i believe those words might be
i love you
sorry it's been such a long time since my last poem. since my last poem ive had a lot of lows and a lot of highs. and im really happy to say, this poem is about one of those highs
Angie S Apr 2019
i don't talk to people.
sometimes i smile,
and i know how to say hello,
but i don't talk to people.

i can read, though.
it was foreign to me
until middle school age,
but the runes on the pages of
the holy book, the look of
my mother's first language,
became words that i could
slowly untangle. and
i was proud of myself,

but that doesn't matter when
i don't talk to people.
my grandmother tiptoes in
conversation with me; her eyes
know no frustration but she
cannot expect a full reply.
my cousin laughs with my mother
and i can't help but wonder
if she wishes i’d laugh, too.
and i worry that the words
will refuse my american accent.
i worry i do not
eat enough spiced curry,
pray enough to the right gods,
or even act
indian enough.

i don't talk to people.
i’m not sure how.
hi! it's been a while.
i've been in a poetic rut for a few months, but i came up with this. :)
Angie S Nov 2018
i remember your laugh
blooming like spring roses
at the end of summer
i could imagine the way your
lips parted, cheeks blushed
over the phone so clearly

i fell in love that day,
so much so that
even if i were to someday forget all about you
those roses would still smell so sweet
i promise i'm over you,
this is just the shy hopeless romantic in me
holding onto those little moments.
Angie S Nov 2018
i'm afraid that
i'll have all the words
to a love poem in my head
but no one to give them to
i'm rereading my journal right now. i wrote this line on march 27, 2018 after having watched love, simon.

a hopeless romantic poet's biggest fear.
Angie S Nov 2018
she basks in the sun's warmth
her half brilliantly glows
she dances on starlight
soft quiet steps on each star
as she twirls, twisting
the cosmos around her.
and yet her other half
hides away, unseen
her secrets embedded in her
forever companion, the
shroud of darkness that is the sky.
how mysterious and how beautiful
she is tonight.
inspired in part by Debussy's classic, Clair de Lune, and in part by the beauty that is the half moon.
i've come to appreciate seeing the moon cycles go by. i was born on the day of a full moon. i try not to be superstitious but i can't help but feel like she's always watching over me.
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