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7.3k · Aug 2017
Hannah Aug 2017
I'm drifting
through my dreams,
occasionally colliding
with a hint of certainty.
I'm higher than I seem,
fighting the concept
of reality as a means.
I'm lost in the sky.
I can't remember why,
but life is just easier
when I get a little high.
6.1k · Sep 2017
The Butterfly Effect
Hannah Sep 2017
Entry ~
I know you're scared. You should be scared. You're taking a huge leap of faith leaving the only "home" you've ever known. But that home you built isn't four walls, and a solid tin roof. It's your soul. It's that thumping in your chest that keeps you awake at 2am. It's the memories you've stored, locked away tight behind steel bars, because god only knows if those bars weren't there those memories would hit you like the eye of a storm. Calm at first, sweet, but then painful, like shards of glass beneath your feet. And I know how much it hurts to leave. To walk away from so many unresolved things. To remove yourself from the lives of people you rely on, that rely on you. But part of living is knowing when to leave. It's knowing when your environment no longer suits the shell you're in. It's easy to tell when that chapter of your life begins. It starts with a slow depression easing its way in, and an unexplained restlessness. I know how much you fight it. The warning signs telling you it's time to go again. You are so afraid of being free, but your curiosity has its own needs. It was never a choice being free. It's always been a part of your destiny. I know you've felt that unexplainable presence easing your anxiety. And it's okay to breathe. It's okay to just be. To not know where you're going to be next spring. It's all a part of the plan. You need to have faith that those guiding you won't lead you astray. You are being protected, and I know you aren't religious, but when you feel like you've lost your way, fall to your knees, and pray. Look for the butterfly, and have faith that one small act of courageousness will set your life in motion. But you have to be willing to take action first. So flap your wings, and don't be afraid of the tornado that follows. You created your fear, and only you can survive in the wake of it.
I wrote this letter to myself. I'm preparing to travel again. In a little less than a month, I'll be on the road to Oregon. I don't have much of a plan this time, all I know is it's time to go.
5.5k · Sep 2017
Dear Dad
Hannah Sep 2017
Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.
The apple never does fall too far from the tree.
4.7k · Aug 2017
Hannah Aug 2017
I don't know
which way to go.
I'm blinded by
the tears in my eyes,
and numb
to the way I feel inside,
but baby,
at least the bottle's dry.
4.2k · Dec 2017
Hannah Dec 2017
I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
of my own
3.8k · Dec 2017
Hannah Dec 2017
has set
me free.

It is
can ever
take away
from me.
3.4k · Sep 2016
Sun & Moon
Hannah Sep 2016
Do you think the moon
loves the sun,
than his thousand
mistresses of stars?
2.5k · Sep 2016
Hannah Sep 2016
There must be more than this.
More than what lies
beyond the deep,
blue sky.
Where stars condense,
and collide.
Where glalaxies spin,
and multiply.
Where life blooms,
but never dies.
There must be more
than what lies
at the end
of an ordinary life.
2.1k · Mar 2017
Hannah Mar 2017
I remember the first time
that I was called pretty.
I was eight years old.
I remember feeling
a bubble of insecurity
hover around me,
like an ant
under a microscope.
At eight years old,
I had experienced
my very first wave
of expectations of women
in a male dominated society.
I had no idea
that would be the first
of many by the time
I reached womanhood.
I was just a child.
I loved playing in the dirt,
and capturing bull frogs.
I was a girl
who played like a boy.
I never thought I was pretty,
not because I had
low self esteem,
but because
I was eight years old.
I was to young
to have pretty
wrapped up in my identity.
Fast forward
eight more years.
I am sixteen now.
I am no longer
playing in the dirt,
or capturing bull frogs.
I am painting my nails
bright pink,
and dying my hair
every two weeks.
I am trying to be pretty.
I am no longer
feeling the bubble of insecurity.
I am living in it
twenty four seven.
I am always concerned
with how I look,
how I act,
and what I say.
I am a girl
who is no longer a tomboy.
I am just a girl.
I no longer know
who I am,
because I am
not allowed
to be who I am.
I am expected
to sit quietly
in the corner,
straightening my hair,
perfecting my makeup,
so that a boy
who loves my body
can tell me he loves me,
and make me his wife.
Fast forward
4 more years.
I am twenty now.
I am numb
to the insecurity.
I am now expected
to live in a suburb,
raise three kids,
clean the house,
love my husband,
and my white picket fence.
I am just another girl
who is seen as pretty.
I am living a lifeless life.
I am at a crossroads
to either stay down
under the weight
of societies expectations,
or burn my picket fence
right down to the ground.
I am remembering
that tomboy I was
before I was called pretty.
I can either reconnect
with her fierceness,
or hide beyond a mask
of beige concealer.
I can either be a dove,
or I can be a phoenix.
I think
the choice is obvious.
~ tomboy ~
1.8k · Mar 2017
The Art of Self-Acceptance
Hannah Mar 2017
Learn to love being alone.
Learn to love who you are.
Learn to love your body.
Learn to love your mind.
Learn to love.
Just learn.
~ Just learn ~
1.8k · Sep 2016
Ruby Moon
Hannah Sep 2016
You see,
she is a lonely mistress.
Her heart belongs
to the ruby moon.
~ 4:00am ~
1.8k · Aug 2017
Hannah Aug 2017
Were you ever real at all?
1.7k · Dec 2017
Hannah Dec 2017
She’s a restless bird
inside a cage
with fragile bones
and broken wings
her eyes were pierced
by her lover’s sting
she trusts
though she cannot see
her beak was tied
by her lover’s string
she waits
to be set free
she weeps
like the moon
does the sea
begging him
*let the caged bird sing.
Set her free.
1.7k · Feb 2017
Cloud Nine
Hannah Feb 2017
I'm up in the sky,
and everything is fine.
I'm higher than life,
I'm riding cloud nine.
I'm sleeping while awake,
and stepping over mines.
I'm pushing my body,
and crossing the line.
It's the feeling I chase,
when the ketamine is fine.
I get out my plate,
and rack out a line.
It puts me to sleep,
and feels better than wine,
but it leaves me hollow,
and empty in mind.
It's the come down that hurts,
when I'm dead inside.
It's a vicious cycle
in the addicts mind.
It's always one more.
It's always the last time.
It's easy to say,
as I rack out a line,
and easy to forget,
once I'm high in the sky.
It's the devils words,
those two little lines.
There's no such thing,
when I'm riding cloud nine.
~ for anyone that is strugging with drug addiction.
~for my friends & my family, that are trapped in the addicts mind.
1.6k · Jan 2018
Hannah Jan 2018
I fall
to remain
This is
my way.
To hold
my breath
diving deeper.
To hold
my bones
just a little
This is
how I know
I am whole.
I have
else to go.
No one
else to
rely on.
I count
on my
own soul.
It might
lead me
the snow
and cold,
but I know
it will
lead me
1.5k · Mar 2017
Hannah Mar 2017
It is empowering to see
other women besides me,
unfolding their wings,
holding the key
to unlocking their dreams,
and fulfilling their destiny.
~ rise ~
1.5k · May 2017
Hannah May 2017
The moon
is my only company
when I'm walking
down dimly lit streets.

I don't mind
that she knows
how I think.

I can tell she likes
the secrets I keep.
1.5k · Mar 2017
Hannah Mar 2017
She is exotically sweet,
like cherry blossoms blooming
in the warm summer heat.
She is softer than spring,
and more delicate than daisies.
She sleeps in the rain,
bathed in the moonlight.
She loves like the sun,
and lives by the moon.
She is a creature of holiness,
her soul made of sunflowers.
She is a beackon of light,
for ships lost at sea.
She is born of the earth,
made of dirt,
and the leaves.
She is a **** that grows wildly,
among a field of planted seeds.
She is free in her spirit
for what she believes.
She is a guarder of those
who have no voice to speak.
She is heaven and hell,
mixed up times three.
She is an angel of earth,
given the force of the sea.
She is a rose without thorns,
and white as could be.
She is a rare expression of love,
favored by the bees.
She is a perfect jasmine flower,
the most beautiful you will ever see.
~ as above,
so below ~
1.4k · Sep 2016
Promiscuous Decisions
Hannah Sep 2016
When I was a child,
I made choices
that changed
my life forever.
These choices,
I realize upon reflection,
were devious in nature.
Very few
have come to understand
my reasonings
for such promiscuous acts.
When these acts came to light,
I was in my senior year
of high school.
Make no mistake,
these normally happy times,
were the worst days of my life.
Day in,
day out.
I endured silent stares,
torment to extremes
no child should bare.
I hit rock bottom
before the age of 18.
I felt I could no longer
show up to school,
love myself ever again.
I turned inside myself.
I became so distant,
so numb.
Just when I thought I was finished,
and could no longer go on,
something peculiar
began to stir in the
depths of my soul.
I tapped into a well
of endless love.

I began to realize my path
in life would never be easy,
I knew it would all
be worth it one day.
My choices at this fragile age
humbled me in ways
my peers would never understand.
I started showing up to school
with my head held high.
I had already endured
the worst of my pain.
And from that pain,
I pulled power.
By human nature,
we are attracted to
what we do not understand.
Not even I understood who I was
during this period of my life.
I thought I was hated,
by anyone and everyone.
I soon discovered that I was wrong.
I was not hated
for what I had done.
It seemed it was
quite the opposite.
By nature,
I am accepting to anyone
who crosses my path.
This seemingly simple
fact completely contradicts
the decisions of my past.
I make people think.
How could she have done
something so out of character?
To this very day,
I have never been asked
directly about my past.
I find it quite fascinating.
After 3 long years,
No one has had the courage to ask,
I have never given an answer.
I am waiting for the day
someone finally breaks the ice.
When they do,
I will simply ask,
*"Why do you think I did it"?
1.4k · Oct 2016
Hannah Oct 2016
You are my cosmos.
My galaxy
of swirling stars.
I will never get out
from beneath your skies.
It does not matter
where I go,
or how fast I run,
You are always
above me,
1.4k · Jul 2017
Hannah Jul 2017
I'm walking down
the railroad track.
I have a cigarette,
a bottle of jack,
and a wife at home
that thinks
I'm coming back.
1.4k · Jul 2017
Hannah Jul 2017
Black birds fly,
raven's sing,
there's ash on
the window sill

red bird's wing,
feathers white,
time slows down
as we pass by

salmon swim,
black bears cry,
as slowly
she closes her eyes

nighttime falls,
red wolves howl,
way up on
the mountain peak

fragile bones,
fallen trees,
a hundred years of sleep

someday you
may just find
a woman king,
a hundred years of peace.
1.3k · Feb 2017
Hannah Feb 2017
I waited each night,
by the window
in the moonlight,
for you to come home,
and tuck me in tight.
I waited, and waited,
putting up quite a fight,
because I refused
to believe my daddy
would leave me in fright.
Mommy would come in,
and kiss me goodnight.
She would tell me,
my daddy loves me,
but he's not
coming home tonight.
I waited, and waited,
until a quarter
past midnight.
That's when I realized,
mommy was right.
These are the words I wish I could say to you, but I can't.
1.3k · Oct 2016
Hannah Oct 2016
It is fall again,
that time of year
when the veil
between realms thins,
and the dead rise from
the depths of their graves,
to roam our world,
and torment the living.
It's the time of year,
when children fear,
the monster in the closet,
and the boogeyman
under the bed.
It's the time of year,
when werewolves howl
at the full moon,
deep within the dark woods.
Fall is here,
and with it comes the time
for the dearly departed
to resurrect,
and share the world
with the living.
1.3k · Sep 2016
Lovely Beings
Hannah Sep 2016
Embrace* the rawness
of your beautiful soul
you *lovely being.
1.2k · Jan 2018
Hannah Jan 2018
We are
on the forefront
of a revolution.
Our generation
holds the key
to eternal peace.
We are
the rising tide,
the ones
that will shift
the tipping point
of our world.
We will
ride the wave
to a new millennia,
or let it crash
the breakwall.

We have a choice.

Be the lighthouse
that shines
through the storm,
or repeat history
in one more
****** war.

What will you stand for?
1.2k · May 2017
Music Festivals
Hannah May 2017
I've never experienced reality
like I have at a music festival.
It's like a circus,
a wonderland,
a place for unconventional souls.
It's a world inside a world,
a community of love
mixed with hippies and drugs.
It's not a perfect place,
but it comes pretty close
when you are rolling,
or tripping face.
1.2k · Jul 2017
Hannah Jul 2017
I must've had angels
betting the odds,
rolling the dice,
because I was born
to a world
that's colder than ice,
blessed with a heart
that refuses to fight.
I was given a light
to shine bright
through the night,
to guide those still lost,
far out of sight.
1.0k · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
She will cradle her own soul
within her hands,
and treasure her precious life ~
holding it tight.
She will not slip away,
like sand lost to the wind.
~ for anyone fighting suicide,
do not slip away ~
1.0k · Sep 2016
Gypsy Soul
Hannah Sep 2016
She has a gypsy soul.
She chases the
colors of the wind,
and dances beneath
the light of the moon.
• Gypsy Soul •
1.0k · Mar 2017
Hannah Mar 2017
My heart is more gentle,
than a delicate flower.
I cannot stand by,
and forget,
when those I care for
are fighting a war
all by themselves.
I don't believe
anyone should have to
suffer alone,
or behind closed doors.
I believe
we should open our arms,
and allow love to flow freely
from one heart to the next.
I believe
in being there,
regardless of time,
regardless of mistakes.
I believe in understanding.
~ I'm here.
971 · Jan 2017
Coldest Nights
Hannah Jan 2017
How many nights
do we spend
toes curled,
skin to skin?
I keep you warm
on your coldest nights.
All while you whisper,
softly in my ear,
that you love only me.
955 · Feb 2017
Black Mountain
Hannah Feb 2017
I could hear
the angels sing
as I stood upon
the mountain top.
I looked
to the land below.
Then to
the heaven's above.
I swear
in that moment,
I believed in God.
I stood at the top of Black Mountain in North Carolina. These are the words that describe how I felt, and what I saw.
936 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
You get so mad
when I'm half in my head,
mostly because I write,
what I really should've said.
918 · Jul 2017
Hannah Jul 2017
Your body gets used to the poison.
904 · Mar 2017
434 Temple St.
Hannah Mar 2017
Entry ~
*How can one person change so much in a single month. I've been walking under the same sun, but passing beneath different streetlights. I haven't been traveling long. I've been gone from my hometown for about three months. I miss the snow covered trees. The cool familiar sensation of the Lake Erie breeze. I miss the tulips in spring that seem to pop up wherever they please. I miss the big blue house with white window frames sitting on the corner of Temple Street. The big garden out front surrounded by an electric fence to ward off deer. That place was my refuge. My sacred ground. I was born into a family twisted from life. I was lost during my childhood, and for most of my teen years. I was a hopeless kid. I kept it together on the surface, but never could hide the sadness in my eyes. I moved into that house a month after I turned eighteen. I was at that crucial age. Teetering on adulthood, fresh out of the high school scene. I moved in with my boyfriend. The man who would become a rock for most of my life. He was the first person to teach me unconditional love. Two words I have been vaguely familiar with from childhood. It was a long process to learn how to give, and receive unconditional love. It's been three years since I've met him. I'm only grasping the concept now. I lived in that house for three years. That house is my home. My real home. When I moved in, I hardly knew my housemates. We were acquaintances. Not exactly friends, but I was accepted because of my boyfriend. I was such a shy girl back then. I hardly said much. Kept myself busy by cleaning, and reading. Smoking lots of ****. Little did I know, three years later they would become some of the most crucial people in my life. My boyfriend taught me unconditional love, but the people in that house taught it to me too. For myself, and for others. I learned more from them then they will ever know. I was brought into their world, one so different from where I came. For a bit, I felt like I was in wonderland. Like I fell down a rabbit hole chasing the cheshire cat. Wandering through scenes of nonsense, caught in the folds of time. Looking back, I can't tell if that's how I actually saw it, or if that was just the acid. Either way, I learned to love it. I was Alice, exploring my new wonderland. I expanded my consciousness in that house. I soaked up what was going on around me like a sponge. I'm an observer. I always have been. I can sit back in a room full of people, not saying a single word, just watching. I notice the things most people do without thinking. The little things. Biting nails, shaking legs, even twisting their earrings exactly three times. Detail is my specialty. I notice everything, from the words people choose right down to what they do when they say them. I'm an observer, not a judger. I keep most of my observations to myself. Unless, I feel someone could benefit from something being noticed. I grew up more in those three years than I had during my entire adolescence. I grew so much that I felt like I was exploding out the windows cracking the white frames, blowing off the roof. I had three of the best years of my life in that house. I had no idea what I was prepping myself for when I moved in. I never would've had the guts to travel cross country if it wasn't for that house. For those people. I owe everything to those three years of my life there. It's been three months since I moved out. Just three short months. I've seen everything from the Appalachian Trial to the Rocky Mountains to the Mojave Desert. In each place I've been, I've found a piece of my lost soul. If life was fair, I would get to keep those pieces. Finders keepers. Unfortunately, that just isn't the way it works. For every piece that's found, one's left behind. This is simply the way. It was decided long ago. By those who understood the circle of life. There must be balance. For what we take, we must give, in order to receive. This is what I learned in that big blue house on temple street. This is the lesson I hold dear to me now as I prepar to come back to my hometown. I haven't been gone long, but I'm not the same as when I left. I'm stronger. Wiser. I'm ready to face the tragedy that awaits me when I pull off exit fifty three. I'll be walking into a storm, but I'm not afraid of the rain. I can take it. I'll feel so much relief when I pull into that rocky driveway, park my car, and walk up the path half swallowed by grass. Up those steps, then right through the door held together with duct tape. I'll walk into the kitchen right into my family's arms, and finally find some peace. I'll be right where I need to be. Right at home with the people that love me. Supporting me, as I face an unbearable tragedy.
~ not my usual style of writing, but I had to get this out ~
880 · Feb 2017
Love Poems
Hannah Feb 2017
There is a boy,
who writes love poems
about the girl,
with skin as
white as *snow.
865 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
Entry ~
*I walked into the sea. I dove beneath the rolling waves, and released every piece of me to the sandy pits underneath my feet. I came here to find some peace, to relinquish the pain I've been carrying, since the day my soul was born to this spinning planet of blue and green. I think my soul is made up of the past, of lives I've lived over centuries passed. I can't explain this karma any other way. It's stacked up against me, towering so high, I must've done something truly awful in a previous life, because there's no way it's karma from this one. I've paid for my mistakes in this life. I've done my time, endured my suffering for the mistakes I've made here, but I can't do anything about my previous lives. I don't think I payed my do's then. I think I ran. I know I did, because there is always an incessant urge to flee, deep inside me, whenever something goes wrong. It's instinctual, kind of like a lion chasing a gazelle. It's a natural instinct for the gazelle to flee when it's being hunted, and for the lion to chase when it's after prey. I think I've been running from the lion for centuries, maybe even millennia's. I don't know who the lion is, but I must've done something truly awful to deserve being punished through lifetimes of karma. I think this karma is how I'm supposed to know he's caught me. I've always had this feeling, deep inside my chest, that life on earth is a punishment. I was sent here to learn a lesson, and maybe I haven't been able to figure it out. That's why it feels like I'm constantly reborn, over and over again. I think in this life, I'm starting to figure it out. I think when I die from this incarnation, I'll transcend beyond the heavens. I'll go back to where I came from thousands of years ago. I'll go back to the place where the lion lays. I'll face him, and hope he doesn't **** me, or wound me to badly. I have to face him, because I can't keep running. I can't be reborn here again. This place is truly hell, but at least I find peace when I'm floating in the salty sea. It's a refuge for me.
863 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
You have no idea
what you mean to me.
You are a lighthouse
when I'm lost at sea.
855 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
It took me years
to fall in love with myself.
It was a foreign idea
throughout my childhood.
I remember the jealousy I felt
for the girls with flawless skin,
and perfectly straight hair.
I thought they were beautiful,
and they were,
but not in the most natural way.
I wanted to be the girl
who was beautiful
after rolling out of bed at noon
without any makeup
besides the mascara
from the night before.
I wanted to be the girl
who was effortlessly beautiful
without giving it a second thought.
I always admired those girls.
I loved the security
that radiated off them,
like the shimmer of sunshine
on delicately tan skin.
It took me years
to become one of those girls.
It was a slow process.
It took the shedding
of a society built for
flawless makeup ridden
artificially created beauty.
It took acceptance
for who I am without the mask.
It took forgiveness
for the flaws I was blessed with at birth.
It took years,
but I'm finally there.
I'm one of those
naturally beautiful girls.
I'm one of those girls
that could careless about shaving,
or washing their hair.
I'm a girl without cares.
I'm a girl in love with herself.
851 · Feb 2017
Hannah Feb 2017
I have wasted
too many years
of my young life
wishing I had been
blessed with
a different story.
I am learning
that all life
is precious,
and that each soul
that walks this earth,
is a mere breath,
a simple expression,
of the interwoven
fabric of our universe.
We are each
a ripple in time,
and our aura
radiates energy
that travels faster
than the speed of light.
We are divine beings.
When we possess
this knowledge,
we breach
the edge of certainty,
and begin to understand
that we hold the key
to our everlasting divinity.
850 · Apr 2017
High School: Ana
Hannah Apr 2017
The years of tye dye,
and silky straight hair,
of stupidity,
and insecurity fears,
of pro Ana scares,
and late night dares.
The years of coffee,
and menthol cigarettes,
anything to keep
the dial on the scale
from moving forward.
I remember those years
crystal clear,
girls wandering the halls,
books in hand,
feet dragging behind them,
bodies moving,
with vacant eyes,
and soulless attitudes.
I was one of those girls too.
I wandered the halls,
like a ghost trapped between
two halves of tainted glass.
I was dead inside,
consumed by insecurities
that hovered around me like flies.
It was hard
to be a girl.
It was hard
to walk those halls
with shame carved in
to porcelain skin,
to walk those halls
with eyes reading
the canvas of my skin,
the story written
between showing ribs.
It was torture,
to starve with a smile
shining on my face like gold,
but so many of us did it.
It was sink or swim.
It was four years
of brutal judgement
by peers hiding
behind blue screens.
It was four years
of petty remarks,
each one a pin poked
straight through the heart.
It was 1,460 days
of crying on the bathroom floor,
of starving just to make
the pain go away,
of chances for someone
to tell you
it was going to be okay,
I remember those years.
I remember thinking
the pain was never
going to go away,
and even after
I left that place,
it didn't go away,
not completely.
It just got easier
to wake up each morning,
knowing I didn't
have to walk the halls
with all those eyes,
waiting for my demise.
It got easier to live,
to remember what it meant
to love who I am.
It got easier to recover,
to eat without feeling,
like I only deserve hunger.
It just got easier,
because high school is torture.
It's not worth it
to let it take over,
to let their words
linger in my ears
like a crack of deafening thunder.
It's not worth it
to be afraid of their thunder,
because I am lightening.
I hold the power.
I'll burn bright,
and make them
run for shelter.
It's been a few years since high school, but I remember how painful it was to go through it.
850 · Mar 2017
Hannah Mar 2017
There are days
that I have
where I don't
want to face,
or doing,
or running
the race.
I just want
to lay here,
head lost
in space,
but reality
comes laughing
reminding me
there's no escape,
so I tell myself
get up,
start moving,
you're being
such a waste.
~ today is one of those days.
849 · Nov 2016
Fire & Ice
Hannah Nov 2016
His eyes burn like fire,
but mine are as cool as ice.
844 · Feb 2017
Dandelion Wine
Hannah Feb 2017
It was half past nine,
as I searched for a sign,
hoping that someday
you would become mine.
I gazed at the skyline,
and prayed for the divine,
to send you a countersign
that would detonate the mine.
I'm hoping these words
creep up your spine,
and rest lightly upon
your loving mind.
My darling,
believe me when
I speak these lines,
you are as fine,
as dandelion wine.
827 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
Rainy days,
and cloudy grey skies.
I miss the sunshine
hidden in
your bright blue eyes.
Stormy nights,
and cold December mornings.
I love the way
we get wrapped up
tight between the sheets.
Sunny days,
and brisk may showers.
I hear happiness
coming from your laughter.
826 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
I have superstition
written on my bones.
It courses through my veins,
and consumes my gypsy heart.
It controls the tricks
of my stealing ways.
If the moon is full,
It's your lucky day.
I'll leave you free,
and be on my way.
825 · Nov 2016
Peace on Earth
Hannah Nov 2016
I have seen the future of our world.
I have seen the sunrise of tomorrow.
I have seen Muslims shake hands with Christians.
I have seen hope buried beneath the rubble in Aleppo.
I have seen a world
come full circle
back into each other's arms,
like two lover's
that are meant to be together,
but have been at war for so long
they can't remember why.
I have looked into the eyes
of all God's creatures
and have seen that spark.
That light
that shines so brilliantly
it must be a soul.
Because nothing else
fuels that kind of hope.
Nothing else stops you
dead in your tracks
and makes you see
that we are all one.
We are all connected.
To each other,
and to this beautiful planet
we call home.
If more people
stared into the eyes
of the people they hated,
maybe we wouldn't
erase hate altogether,
but we would
strengthen tolerance.
Maybe then
we would stop
dehumanizing each other,
and start complimenting
each other instead.
Maybe our children
wouldn't come home
from school crying,
or in trouble
because they want
to build a wall,
or send Muslims
back to Islam.
our daughters
wouldn't have to worry
about being "*******"
by men
because her skirt
was just to short.
I have seen the future.
The future doesn't
look like this present.
The future is bright.
The future is ready for peace.
819 · Aug 2017
Hannah Aug 2017
I found a picture of you today
buried beneath the clutter
of seven years of pain.
I remember when it was taken.
You were so full of life that day.
I swear your smile
could have led boats
back to the bay.
I remember your presence,
and the way it felt
to hold your attention.
Those eyes
a raging fire
with a crystal clarity
meant only for the divine.
I swear you hold secrets
between the walls of time.
I can still hear you
when I whisper your name
over the rolling waves
of the lake,
your final resting place.
I swear when I'm there,
I can feel your hand
on my shoulder,
comforting me,
like a warm summer rain
on a beautiful August day.
804 · Apr 2017
Hannah Apr 2017
The innocence of the moon
outweighs the crooked way
the stars hate the light of day.
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