Lately I've felt like I'm just floating
My home is here
My friends are there

And I don't know where I belong

I was never going to be that girl,
The one who wanted
What she obviously couldn't have.

The one who wished a boy like him
Would like her instead,
Of her best-friend who is perfect for him

I didn't want to be that jealous friend
But now look at me.
I am.

Thrown in the garbage
Without a second thought
Years down the road
Found washed ashore on a small island
Among thousands, millions of other pieces of garbage

Poisoning and killing the native birds
Who have lived there their whole lives
Relying on the fish in the water
The bugs on the land

But without great sight
They can’t tell a lid from a squid
A wrapper from a fish

The trash ends up in their stomach
It doesn't go away
They can’t and won’t be able to get it out of their systems
Staying until the bird dies

Millions of dead birds
All around the island
Never moved, never touched
Dying and decaying
Their bodies turning to dirt

But not the plastic that was in them
It takes hundreds, sometimes thousands of years
For those pieces to finally break down

The few things that do decompose
As they’re floating in the ocean
Are still out there
Turning into microscopic spheres of plastic
Collecting toxins and infecting fish

Other plastic spheres making their way to land
Mixing in with the sand
Eventually instead of rocks
The sand will be made of plastic
And that will be considered normal
Standard

A prediction for 2030
Based off scientist’s studies
There will be more plastic in the ocean
Than there will be fish

The fish that  we eat
And what’s going to happen to us?
Is the plastic going to **** us too?

All of these things
Just adding up
Like a big cycle
We throw it away
We **** the animals
Pollute the waters
And in turn
Our garbage will **** us

I lay in bed
Trying desperately to go to sleep
But the thoughts are running freely through my head
Like I'm watching someone fill a cup
But it's about to overflow
The liquid getting closer to the top
It looks like a cup of cocoa
I can't stop thinking

Ideas, worries, and just plain old thoughts
Mixed and melding
Until I can no longer focus
I tell myself to breathe in breathe out
Focus on the sound of the fan
Close my eyes and focus on nothing at all
Breathe in
Breathe out
And fall asleep

I slip in my ear buds and lean against the window

Remembering pulling on my coral and daisy rain boots
Pulling on my rain coat
Walking outside, rain dripping out of the clouds
Puddles splashing as I walk through them
The reflection of the tree’s in the pond
The birds flying low, staying under cover

A big puddle is in the middle of the sidewalk
I jump in it.
Drops of water fly everywhere.
A grin makes its way to my face        “Watch it!”
And melts back off.

I continue to trudge to the bus stop.
Standing there alone amid all the people.
My bright colors stand out in all the dark.
I can feel the eyes burning into me, but I refuse to give in.
The bus comes, we get on and we go

I sit in the same seat
Alone
I unzip my bag, fish out my phone and earbuds
Preparing for another day of loneliness,
That the brightest color of boots will never change.

Why do we always want what we can’t have?
Wouldn’t it be so much easier to want the things we need?
To be happy with what we do have?

But alas
We are but human.
And it is our nature to want
And desire
We can’t have everything
And if we’re always wanting something
Then how will we ever be happy?

When writing stories
Authors can create a whole new world
A place that they wish to be in
A place they would run away from

They can create perfect and imperfect people
They could make the people they want to be
And know

An author can run away in their own world
Choosing what they want to be and do
Making decisions with movements from a pencil

Ideas swirl frantically in their heads
Unorganized and chaotic
When written out on paper
They are more focused
And they blend to make
A story.

The reader can choose to read
Or not.

But when they do,
They experience what the author wanted
They feel what was written,
Said, and hinted at.

Because the writer writes for the reader.

The reader reads for adventure, release or excitement.
And when done, those characters continue living
Through the reader
Through the writer

Hoping one day that people will realize
That those who are being made and created
Are the ones our society needs most
The people we want to keep us from falling apart

But until then
We as writers
We are readers
Just keep waiting
For someone to decide that they want to be good
They want to change things
And they’re not afraid of what people will think
When they begin to change the world.

Moments are like scoops of ice cream
One minute they are there and solid
The next, they begin to melt and mix
Until you can’t remember the taste
All that you know is that you had
A scoop or two
Of ice cream

I tried to hold it off.
Keep the sadness at bay.
But tonight,
Looking through pictures and
Remembering old times

The tears started flowing
And this time
I didn’t hold them back

There were whispers
Gossip and rumors
Did you hear about that?
I heard that…

How can you expect people to be happy
When they are being talked about
Behind their backs
Rumors being spread
When no one even knows them

I look out and see the city
All the shining lights
The cars coming and going
The people living
And think
Wow.
I live in a big world

The sun shines into the raindrop
The drop filled with tree's
A waterfall
Birds singing and in the distance
You can hear Christmas bells ringing
The drop filled with words
of joy, sadness and longing

As the drop continues its descent
the sun continues through the rain
Turning it into pure gold
Before it falls into the hands
of a girl
With bright red rain boots
and water droplets in her hair

There once was a girl
Different than others
She had morals
She had standards
The rain was her sun
She didn’t care much for “fun”
She stuck with her books
Her comfort, her knowledge
She knew what she wanted

She had trials
She had joy
Throughout it all
She remained true
To the girl she swore she would be
And stayed away from those who she said
I can’t be near them, they may change me

As she got older she grew and matured
She learned to be wiser
She leaned to be kinder
Her views widened
Her horizons expanded
She was no longer as innocent
And ignorant as before

She stopped her judging
Started her loving
Her wants changed
From silly trivial things
To longing for the feeling
of contentment
and
eternal joy
She no longer wanted the perfect prince
She wanted the knight in rusty armor
For he would have faults
But so did she
And together they would be perfect

She didn’t fling herself around
She didn’t broadcast her voice
She was quiet
She was reserved
But those who she helped
Knew she was different than she seemed

She had deep friendships
Whose roots ran to the core of the earth
And would never be broken
Her faith was strong
And her courage firm

She was happy and content
She was coming out of her shell
Out of the ridiculous worry of judgement
She worked hard to become who she was
And she was proud of it.

As I sit by the window
I watch the rain pour outside
I see the lightning light up the sky for a split second
I hear the thunder as it rumbles through the valley
I think of all of the things I’ve done
And all of the things to come
And inside of me
I feel the storm start to brew

I hate this feeling of dread
knowing that no matter how I prepare myself
I won't be able to stop it

No matter who I surround myself with
I cannot stop the inevitable feeling
that I will feel
When I am away from my family
even for a single day

I can't hide from the feeling
of homesick
and I don't think it will change

Feel great, feel cool, feel nice. Nice people, nice things, nice ice. Ice cream, ice blocks, ice cubes. Cube, pyramid, cone, sphere. Circle, circle of life, what comes around goes around. Ring around the rosey. Tulips, daffodils, daisies, pansies. Scared, frightened, freaked. Surprise, happy, content, friends. Social, shy, outgoing. Going out with friends, going out of town, going to bed. Sleep, cozy, pillows, blankets, nighttime. Stars, moon, owls, darkness. Dark hair, dark chocolate, dark night, Dark Knight. Batman, Superman, Cat-women, Supergirl, Flash. Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, Captain America, Iron Man, Hulk, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Thor. Pepper Potts, Peggy Carter, Jane Foster. Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, William Shakespeare. Elizabeth and Darcy, Romeo and Juliet, Jane and Rochester. Love, tragedy, comedy. Happily ever after, never, future, past, present. Wishes, desires, wants, needs. Thoughts, actions, words, deeds. If, when, now, how. Questions, answers, research. Study, work, write, draw. Art, paint, opinions, facts. Math, history, grammar, science. Religion, faith, beliefs, devotion. Marriage, together, apart. Separate, different, change. Old, new, used. Abandoned, left, alone, useless. Useful, helpful, needed, wanted. A place, person, thing. Adjective, verb, adverb, noun, pronoun, proper noun. Mad Libs.

Running was our thing
My connection to you
Now I have to share with her
She who always is trying to best me
And is ruining the fun
And relaxation
That comes from so many of my favorite things

Reading was our thing
Something I could relate to

Our shared sense of humor
Is now being forced into stupidness
Because I have to share with her

We didn't have much in common
But the few things we did are gone
Because of her

My friends that are closer to my age
I'm gone one time because of a conflict
Now they're not my friends at all

They say I'm a role model
She looks up to me
She doesn't
She just sees it
As a competition

I try to be patient
But I can't
People say we are so similar
But we are nothing alike

She is loud and commanding
She wants attention
And has different sides to her
That no one else sees
Because she is so fake around others

People are disappointed in me
When I dislcude her
But when she does that to others
No one cares
Or is disapojnted in her

Because she isn't supposed to be mature
And I'm supposed to be setting the example

It’s strange.
I want to write elegant poetry
That rhymes
With metaphors
And all the fancy poetic devices

But whenever I start a poem
That I planned on writing
More eloquently
And fancy

It always comes out
Random
Without form
Or anything special

Sometimes I’ll get lucky
And have a few good lines

I used to be annoyed by that
But now
I don’t care
I just want to write my poetry

My roots are in this ***
I have been here my whole life
But because I cannot yet
Control my decisions
I can’t have a say in what I do

So without asking
I am uprooted
To somewhere new
That I will have to adjust and get used to

I will try to go along
And try to make it work
I will try to be excited and open-minded
But there will always be a part of me
That wants to go back
And make the choice myself

I will get used to the change in weather
The bigger ***
And the other flowers
I will go on with my life
Try to make the best of it
And I will try to find a place in my heart
To forgive you.

I love the moments
When everything is so simple
It's just you and your friends
Being weirdos on the trampoline in the dark
It's you in a moment of truce with someone
Who has hurt you countless times
When you're out on a run
And all you see and think about
Is the things going on around you
Or the next few steps to take
To reach your goal
The content feeling of sitting in your backyard
For ten or twenty minutes
Feeling the sun shine and hearing the birds chittering
Being at a party
Not talking to anyone
Just looking around
At all your friends and thinking
*Wow, I have a great life

Don't say you understand
Don't look at me like you know

Because you don't

Just comfort me
Hold me

But if you can't
Without sounding patronizing

Then leave me alone

As she saw the rain pouring down on the street
She prepared herself for the flight
And the different problems she would meet
She shook of her doubts and flew out into the night

She encountered monsters, she ran into rivers
But no matter what she continued on
Through the journey called life that just blurs
Experiences joining as she is still running to reach the light of the dawn

I’ll look out the window
Oh look! Its raining!
And I’ll want
To go dance in the rain
Sometimes
I’ll grow restless
And think
I need to get out!
And I’ll want
To go on a run
Sometimes
I’m cold
And I’ll think
I’m going to curl up in a big blanket,
With a book and
A cup of hot cocoa and extra marshmallows
And other times
I’ll be sad
Or in a,
I’m going to watch a sad movie
With ice cream
Mood
Just do it! Eat that ice cream!
Cry in that movie!
I’ll think

Sometimes I’ll want
To do some of these things

So I do

I have a bracelet
Given to me by a friend
Bought in a foreign country

The beads are wooden
The beads are colorful
The string is woven
Throughout and around
The beads

Like our friendship
The outs
And ins

I look at the bookshelf
Standing in front of me
The many stories
That can be read
And make adventures

I wish I could just
Choose a book
And live in that world
No matter how perfect
Or horrible it is
At least
It would be better
Than mine

I rarely ask for anything
I always base decisions
On what you would want

But the one time
I ask for something small
You won’t let me have it

I do everything you ask
And all I get is
We have other plans
But then
My sisters get to go
And be with friends
While I’m stuck at home
Once again

You look at me
And my head jerks back

What was that?!
It wasn’t me!
Why is my body trying
To torture me

The embarrassment
You must think I’m mental

It's like a knee-**** reaction..
But it's a head-**** reaction.

I have always hated change
I don’t like the unexpected
When I have a way I do things
I don’t change it

And then when someone suddenly decides
That its time for change
Let's move! Away from everything
Your life
Your friends
Your school
And I can’t do anything about it
I hate it

And the something happens
Or multiple things
Maybe stress
Maybe drama
Maybe family relationships

And then suddenly
I can’t wait
To leave
And start anew

Sometimes I imagine
The wall I would build around my heart
If I needed to
Maybe it would be made of red bricks
Maybe sticks or straw
That a wolf could easily blow down.

Maybe it would be a huge concrete wall
Solid and hard
Maybe it would be made of metal
With bolts connecting the rounds
Maybe it would be hard to get through

Maybe my wall would be made of glass
Easy to see through
Delicate
Easy to break
But beautiful in the light

Maybe I won’t build a wall
I’ll be easy to read
Easy to break
Easy to hurt
Vulnerable to the outside storm

I studied that face
For as long as I could remember
My first semester
I should have got an F in that class
Because I could not comprehend
What I learned
I ended first semester with a bad attitude
About that subject
I could not understand
The paradox that was shown

How could someone
Be so mean
And so nice
So harsh
So judgemental
And so kind
And thoughtful?

Second semester started
I decided to start out
Un-biased
I would analyze everything
But not let it affect me personally

As I studied
Constantly
Even away I was still thinking
And now I think I understand
You.

I know that you are proud
Of the things your father does
I know you are not knowledgeable
In most worldly things
And you’re alright with that
You hate being teased
But it's so easy to
You are quick to judge
Yet you reprimand others for it
You like arguing pointless things
You like being right
You stand up for those you care about
Your face turns so red
When embarrassed
You aren’t as rude
When you’re around people
You don’t want to impress
You’re funny in a weird way
When you laugh
I always think of a gurgling river
Or an exploding geyser
You do cute things when you think no one
Is watching
I could go on
And on about the virtues
And the imperfections
That are you

But after this semester is over
I think I got an  A+ in this class
And I have learned so much from you
This isn’t about a crush
A teenager love
This is me
Finally understanding
Someone who has always been around me
Someone that has always confused me
That now makes me laugh
Whenever I realize
What he’s doing
Or trying to

Some of the craziest blue eyes
That you’ve ever seen
Bright blue eyes
Always observant
Always watching

Dull green eyes
Never noticing
Never seeing

What do you do
When the one you want
Is the one who doesn't notice you

I have missed my poetry
these past few days

I've been too busy
to write or read
it was strange
without poetry
I felt like
I had lost love

I will always remember my preschool teacher
Telling me...
*A little bit goes a long way

Click
The room brightens
Twist
I can see better
Push
The monsters in the closet are gone
Turn
I can relax now

The dark is light
With a button or ****
Changing my whole perspective
Of the room

I always wish
That hand-writing
A letter
Didn’t go out of style.

I miss the excitement
Of getting something in the mail.
Opening a hand addressed envelope
And reading the words sent to me.

But now
All I get in the mail
Is bills and unwanted
Or needed, advertisements.

I look out the window
As the world
Whizzes by

I sit there
And create this poem in my mind
Miles away from the earth

Me with my head in the clouds
Constant ideas and constant dreams
Being born in my head

I used to try to write those ideas
And express them in a story
With my own characters

That was before I discovered poetry
Now I have no need
For all the uncompleted stories I have made

I'm addicted
To ice cream

My pink mechanical pencil
Is sitting right beside my computer

The brand and lead size
is worn off, from all the use

The eraser has been changed
Countless times

There is graphite dust
in a few places in the grip

My other pencil
the same but purple

Lost its clip
I wiggled my pencil too much

Which is why the purple one
Is out of order

When I'm bored
or anxious

I'll pick up my pencil
Spin it, wiggle it, open and close it

Take apart
and put back together

Anything that can be done to my pencil
Will be done

Thanks to my constant need
for motion

Magical is a word.

Sometimes, I just crave poetry
I crave writing it
And I crave reading it

Although I may not have any ideas in my head
I’ll get on my computer
And let the ideas flow
Into a poem

Sometimes I’ll look through
The books of poetry I have
And find something that suits my mood
And sometimes I’ll even emulate it

I feel like poetry is a living thing
You can connect with it
And share your feelings
There is so much more to poetry
For me
That is hard to explain
But I’m sure other poet’s understand
What I’m trying to say