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daycrow Sep 2020
when it rains,
put on a jacket.
when it's dark,
turn on your lights.
when there's pain,
let me check it.
if there's a mark,
we'll know it bites
daycrow Jan 23
i haven't lost anyone lately
(besides myself)
but still i feel lonely;
can't hold on to used-to-be's,
but it's not that easy.
i was always afraid i'd never change.
so afraid, in fact,
that i didn't realize i was afraid of changing.
indie anthems from 2001 that still slap
daycrow Sep 2020
We’re going there-
where lips and eyes meet,
between waterfalls and fireflies;
I spin around in circles.

It’s home to you-
might not seem to be,
but the scent of wet grass and sawdust
almost moves you to tears.

You’ll learn it soon-
though you don’t want to,
life is a cycle, and you’ve stopped still.
Move on, but keep it slow.
the people are talking
daycrow Dec 2020
i remember the last time i felt in extremes. i remember
the sun and the moon,
hanging in balance between pendulum eyes.
i remember when i felt fine. better yet, i remember
when i wanted to feel
anything, sad or happy, and wanted it to last.
i remember when i dreamed of people who didn't,
and places that lasted,
and people to call and places to be,
even if only once.
now i love the cold,
and i stand outside with wet hair,
and watch my breath swirl around me like feathers in the breeze.
my fingers are cold,
but i like the burn.
i don't want to get better.
daycrow Sep 2020
I’m going back to being a kid
Riding my bike and scuffing my knees
Doin the things that i used to did
Afore I went and got so old

Stompin on ants and runnin from bees,
Kickin rocks and diggin for gold
Suckin on lollies and climbin up trees,
Lookin for toys that my brother hid

Nose always running, but not from the cold
Just how it was, when i was a kid
When movies were boxes and mommas would scold
Riding our bikes and scrapin our knees
abac bcba cacb
daycrow Feb 23
lately the sunsets have been lingering.
they pool on the mountaintops,
seeping into the clouds like sticky drops
of strawberry lemonade;
they pool at my feet, inviting me to swim.

it's a cruel temptation, if only because
it would be such a sweet sensation.
oh, how i love to swim.
daycrow Oct 2020
I saw a shadow linger in day,
after all others had fled away.
I glanced back around, when to my surprise,
I saw that the shadow had eyes.
It shuddered and leapt, then blinked once more
as if to say, "You've seen me before."
It's true that the sight was one I should know;
the shadow I saw was a crow.
my username origin story. also inspired by robert frost

write a poem about your username and use the tag username2020 just for kicks
daycrow Sep 2020
the sky looks down with watery eyes
and shivering winds that pass for deep sighs
and all the world is soaked in her tears
as she mourns the passing of thousands of years
daycrow Sep 2020
These are the days I feel the world in me grow-
Not like summer posies-
Not like oak trees-

These are the days I smell the storm on horizons far past-
It leaves a trail-
No, a highway traveled-

These are the days I should be able to write poetry-
But it’s not-
I can’t-
daycrow Sep 2020
drifting dust mite
floats through sunlight
shines as bright as
stars in the night
daycrow Sep 2020
Steely hands
Frozen gaze
You fight the forward march of days
“Don’t take me up,
Don’t seal the door,
I want to see what comes before.”
daycrow Sep 2020
he bursts from his chains
he opens his eyes
he takes my hands
we leap into the sky
we pause just barely
we float in an embrace
she squares her shoulders
she raises the barrel
she knows what she must do
it cracks like thunder
it throbs like heartache
it brings us back down
have you read harrison bergeron? I read it 6 years ago, but still i remember
daycrow Feb 5
Here's the thing-
there are days when I'm barely alive,
and there are days where can't stand being still.
There are people,
people who I fear, and at the same time
love more and more every day.
Every time it's the same-
I see a little deeper into each pair of eyes,
and I can't get them out of my mind.
If I never say "I love you,"
I'm sorry. Because I do;
even though I'm a stranger,
I'd live for you.
something I just learned about you has me wishing I knew so much more.
daycrow Sep 2020
I know a boy who cheated the sun- he says,
"It's easier than it was supposed to be;"
I remember him holding serpents between his fingers, riding waves and running-
   from the children-
with joy in his eyes.
Not sure why my eyes are so haunted- all my
      ghosts are in the past
and as tired as I am today,
nothing will top last February
      or the one before that,
            or the January before that one.

I was never supposed to be older than he was;
            time drips past us like blood, true,
but it's as equal to me as it is to you.
I don't remember him finishing school-
I suppose we have that in common-
But I remember the game he taught me
(even that was a cheat… a game of lies).
I just wish he realized that when he took those days from the sun,
             he was cheating everyone else too.
so cold
daycrow Sep 2020
I know what freedom is.
I've heard that tune before.
Freedom is shaving your head, and watching your old, glittering self flutter to the floor.
I know what passion is.
I've felt that yearning.
Passion is when you come up for air but keep going even though your lungs are burning.
I know what triumph is.
I've felt it lift me lighter.
Triumph is peaking the final wooded hill, looking down with sudden tears, and tying the tourniquet tighter.
I will not stop today.
daycrow Sep 2020
Who is this girl, who whispers spite?
Who lets her words nip and bite?
Why does she hide from the streetlight?
Stay up and run through the night?
Gone are the days when she slept in
(pain stops only to start again)
She wants the world, but where to begin-
All wrong, but still say “alright.”
daycrow Dec 2020
haven't felt it this way since he died.
maybe it's grief,
the way i mourn the change.
maybe it's envy,
though i know that sounds strange-
but i think that it's fear
though i've grown and i've learned,
what if i'm meant to cross bridges i've burned?
daycrow Mar 9
only two feathers remain
to remind you.
white pinions, almost angelic,
except for the black at the tips.
they remind you of the prisoner-
the great merrel-
chained by his ankle to the rafters.

you're growing your hair out.
the curl is more mild
than it was when you were a child;
at last you have a use for those ribbons.

his wing was broken on a hunt many years ago.
time heals all wounds,
except when it doesn't.
he told you he could eke one more flight out of it,
if he had to.
he knew he would die when he stooped.
he knew he would die in that one fell swoop.

but you were drowning.
it was your destiny to die,
and whether or not it makes you cry,
he used his last flight to save you.

only two feathers remain
to remind you.
white pinions, oddly bucolic,
except for the red near the quills.
they remind you of the hunter-
the poor merrel-
diving into the ocean once more.
spindle's end
daycrow Sep 2020
empty vessel
broken cup
never again to fill you up
glossy shard
jagged edge
pushed right off the counter ledge
daycrow Jan 20
Gun to the lips;
Hair jagged at the tips
and socks with rips;

Soft scissor-snips;
Icy white-knuckle grips
and sweat that drips;

Storm-cloud eclipse;
Shattered, scattered glass chips
And a gun to the lips.
doesn't it hurt? will it ever stop? do you even want it to?
daycrow Sep 2020
Scribbled lines
Crumpled sheet
Always someone new to meet
Smeared pencil
Broken lead
Desperate to escape your head
daycrow Nov 2020
hello, my nightbird.
did you sing your song today?
did they hear your dawn lullaby,
or did they kick you away?

the fault was never yours to begin with;
earth crumbles beneath my feet day after day,
but you flit
and feel no need to stay.

and that's fine. i mean it
when i say,
"i wouldn't have it any other way."
i meant it then, and i mean it now. have you seen the depths in your eyes? i've drowned in them before.
daycrow Oct 2020
wing-teeth songs,
played by cricket maestros-
night music.
what better name for
a song that sends an ache through the molars? a song,
a memory,
a ringing wing-tooth melody?
daycrow Sep 2020
can’t remember how it starts,
but no one cares like i do;
the creaks and moans of beasts and bones are familiar songs to me.
some endings aren’t quite right-
a constant war of mosts and leasts-
of downy flakes and city streets-
of wests and easts-
of folded papers and spilled inks-
even the drips don’t drop right
do i like to care?
someone else, just answer for me
daycrow Sep 2020
oh, cyrus-
i know you never wanted to die.
     are you still in denial?
hades lives two doors down the street,
     and your bones are as cold as lenore's.
it was years ago, cyrus,
that they took you and hid you away.
Are you glad for the change,
     for the progress you've made,
or would you trade it all back for yesterday?
we can't help but look back

If anyone knows any other "oh" names I can use I would love to make this a 3-part series
daycrow Sep 2020
oh, ryan-
      -you’ve grown so old, but you’re still just the same.
when will you stop shooting stars?
selene shys away at your name,
      and artemis spits in your cup.
they hate you so, ryan,
      but maybe it’s just a part of us.
we pray at night, but we’re creatures of day-
      to act any different wouldn’t be right.
daycrow Sep 2020
one day, I’ll tell you it all;
all the times I held your hand,
all the days I rested my head on your shoulder.
I’ll look you in the eye
and tell you all the things you’d say-
I’ll speak the words you spoke to me,
one day.
daycrow Feb 23
have you ever eaten stale popcorn?
have you ever smudged perfectly straight pen lines?
reached, and fallen short?
have you ever bruised both of your heels?
(yes, you have; i know.)

have you ever felt the aching pulse of a sunburn?
the one that feels good as it stings,
the one that keeps you warm at night
and dulls the points of life with delirium?

last summer i watched the sun rise every weekday
and came home smelling like sweat and chlorine.
my fingers wrinkled like peach pits, and the wind dried my hair.
sometimes i showered; sometimes i didn't.

i would carry my great-grandmother's quilt to the backyard,
and lay it in the shade of the tree i helped plant four years ago;
i would lay in the grass,
and sleep on my face.
i was exhausted. more tired than i'd ever been in my life, it felt like.

was i happy?
i don't know.
but i miss that summer.

have you ever watched or felt the pelt of a storm from afar?
heard the thunder purr?
seen the lightning pounce?
have you seen a deluge mask the horizon?
have you seen the storm brew, and yet pass you by?
(perhaps, perhaps not)

depending on who you asked, it was the end of the world.
in my sleepy town,
we only  pretended to care;
instead as the sun set,
we built faces in the sand.
i could barely stay awake after dusk.
(it's harder to appreciate the night when you know you have to see the dawn)

do you miss the county fair?
do you miss playing bottle cap checkers and chalk?
do you miss waking up to the radio?
do you miss what used to be,
the same way that i miss popcorn, the pool, and my peach tree?
it carries such a deep melancholy; even when i lived it, it was bittersweet. lord, don't let time take this from me.
daycrow Oct 2020
I was a good friend,
   and a bad one.
I was a day child,
   and a night one.
It rained and the sun shone,
I wasted time on my phone;
      I was friendly,
         and I was alone.
I was in love,
   and I was afraid.
I shouted hello,
   I knelt down and prayed.
I cried for the dead,
I said what I said;
      I thought about leaving,
         but I stayed instead.
it's all in my head.
daycrow Sep 2020
you can cry
here in my arms
and i will dry each tear
and i will whisper in your ear
all the reasons you should try
and i will let you hide away-
if you want to, dear
daycrow Sep 2020
I didn’t realize you were fragile until I saw you on the floor;
Never quite saw the shade of your eyes clearly, but those hollow whites haunt me;
I knew you were cool and collected
             -until you weren't
Wasn’t sure you were broken until I felt the frantic drum of your bird-beating heart between my hands and your chest-
All I knew was what I’d always known, and I was terrified.
They told me I could try again,
But I’d come so far-
             -call me a hero, but I've felt broken since that fever-dream.
I don’t remember quite right.
Made two minutes and twenty-seven seconds last an eternity and a half when I decided to rise,
And- I’m sorry- those shaking spasms started running through me too.
I always try to trap these monumental moments in paper-bound cages and bait them with inky lures, knowing that they’ll elude me anyway, but I doubt I’ll ever forget- I know I won’t forget your empty eyes.
daycrow Sep 2020
silver fingers, golden toes
copper wire between my teeth
it shocks, but
i suppose
it itches more,
like tears in your eyes, or dust in your nose
november rises
and though fall is still falling
and desert sands shift slow,
it's getting cold
(and old)
sorry for what i said when i was lonely
Even the shade of my hair changes
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