hannah

hannah Apr 2014

Untitled

How am I going to put you into words without making a mess?
I am a mess
This pencil is a kinked hose and my garden is dying by the second
This paper is a safe and I forgot the combination
This music makes no sound and this silence is too loud
Am i screaming loud enough for you?
Can you hear me over your own problems and your white lie whispers?
Can you taste me over the bitterness of your own tongue?
I need to lay down because I can't stand to see you.

hannah Apr 2014

Hollow

I imagine other stomachs
are full of gardens with flowers
but mostly butterflies

i think i forgot to cover up the holes
when i planted my seeds
because all thats left now is hollow
like an old log

maybe that's why i eat to much
but also too little
and try to fill the hole up
to make the plants grow
and bring the butterflies in

what i don't know is that
my stomach will grow a rose bush
the thorns will *****
and my stomach will bleed
for hollowness again

hannah Mar 2014

(s)he

he was an unswept floor
she was unsolved rubik's cube

he taught her to write poetry
she taught him to love

she said that love was a butterfly
he'd never even been in a cocoon

he said that words were twelve story buildings
she was afraid of heights

he was a creaky old cabin
she was an unfinished jigsaw puzzle

but he had the missing piece, lost in the dust behind his rickety counters
and she was a fixer upper, looking for a renovation

they were red stripes with orange plaid
they were mismatched socks

both so different
both so lost

c

hannah Jan 2014

You

I am holding on to your words like breaths of air
and it's not right to suffocate myself like this
replaying you like an old tape that skips
broken memories to match the shards of glass inside
on which I've cut myself too many times
lyrics that mean nothing but memories
a beat that makes the pit in my stomach grow
louder than the colours on your bedroom wall
and I can paint with them all.
paint the awkward hugs goodbye
the chance encounters on the street that we were never lucky enough to have
I can paint over the population sign
but you'll always inhabit my mind

c

hannah Jan 2014

Untitled

Plucked into a room with multiple doors
They tell us to keep them all open
pick one door
They tell us
pick it now
In a sea of desperation
we see each door as an exit only
As if once a door is picked
there are no do overs
We can change our minds
but can we change our paths?
Because maybe the house
was made for us to explore

c

hannah Dec 2013

one slight motion

one slight motion
held the end of happiness
the beginning of lonely nights
and hungover mornings
in one slight motion
i could feel everything
              c
         r
u
m
b
l
e
around me like towers
and i knew i never should have built them that high
because the impact was stronger
than the wave goodbye

hannah Nov 2013

awake

it's the darkness
and the dead of the night
that make my mind open up
when the city lies down
taking midnight strolls down memory lane
and the circles under my eyes
start to match the nighttime sky