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there was a girl who dreamed of flying; over mountains and oceans and forests and beaches. She searched and sought ways to soar into the horizon. She tried to construct wings of wax and feathers, like Icarus. She tried to fashion contraptions similar to Orville and Wilbur’s. She tried to mix potions and find fairy dust and jump off high buildings with large sheets tied to her wrists.

She had almost given up hope,

                 until one day she met a boy. With startling brown eyes that shocked her into living. With rough, but soft, hands that cradled her porcelain fingers. With careful lips that whispered what she didn’t know needed to hear.



And after waiting so long,
        the boy had finally filled her with such sunlight, and warm oxygen, and such life that her feet lifted off of the ground. Her toes curled and her fingers splayed in the wind, and she grabbed his hand to show him the insides of clouds.
 Sep 2019 freshgrind
August
He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.
 Sep 2019 freshgrind
Lace
Yellow
 Sep 2019 freshgrind
Lace
The color yellow is
Overwhelming
The color yellow is
Heavy and hard
The color yellow is
Panic and pain
The color yellow is
Nightmares and not
Being able to breathe
The color yellow is
Images glued to the
Inside of my brain
The color yellow is
Drastically changing
The color yellow is
Transforming into
         Sunshine
Instead of
                         Rain
He takes a second to step aside
He takes a moment to see his lie
And he decides to take a turn this time
But really, he doesn’t know if it’s for the worst
If it’ll be his demise, if it’s just his curse, at work

No one has really known his mind
And no one’s ever seen his eyes
And no one ever thinks behind
Not quite like he’s questioned why
But for them, it’s his own mind’s pride

He wants to close his eyes
But he can feel it in the prize
He can feel it in his tries
So will you step aside
To at least let him try

— The End —