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Hannah Wallace Dec 2018
“Don't get sweet on me, we both know this is just infatuation” i couldn't tell if she was kidding, would it bother me if she wasn't?
I drove to third street and asked the cold, cold ocean what i should do.
The ocean told me i should probably wear shoes more often.
I laughed.
Thats a good start i guess?

Because maybe i've been too open
Maybe i haven't taken enough care of my sole (soul?)
Maybe i've been stopped at a green light, maybe i've been driving through red ones
Maybe i've been so close to turning around and just heading home
Maybe id be better off there?
Maybe she's right

Or maybe
This girl is going to love the **** out of me someday
And ill look at her and say
Don't get sweet on me, we both know its just infatuation
And we’ll laugh
Because we’ll be wrong
Hannah Wallace Dec 2018
pt. 1

she doesn’t have a favorite color
She’s said that different colors have different meanings
And linens are different than the lines
Alining the oceans face

She left a trace
On the nook of my chest
The hole in my stomach
The tip of my finger

I held her:
Velvet skin
Merlot tongue
Sleepy head

I said
“Don’t self-sabotage”
She laughed
And said
“Don’t change”
Her favorite thing about me is my optimism

She doesn’t trust herself
To trust me
she doesn’t trust me

i didn’t chose my words
Carefully enough
To keep her words
From catching in her throat
I wondered what she really
Wanted to say

Yesterday, i didn’t know who she was
Today i don't know her
She doesn’t believe in tomorrow

pt. 2.
She doesn’t have a favorite color
But she says she like blue for sheets
Black and White for cleats
Because color transcends being objectified

i find myself
Studying the history in
Her calloused hands
The language in her hips
The chemistry in her kiss

i held her:
Velvet touch
Merlot tongue
Sleepy head

I said “don’t self-sabotage”
And she let out a laugh
She said “don’t change”
her favorite thing about me is my optimism

I wondered what
Was on her mind
I could ask a million
And ten times in case a million and
Nine wasn’t enough the
First try
But as much as i
Studied the calculations
In her face,
I’m still bad at math

I wished on 11:11 that she might want me back
Hannah Wallace Dec 2018
--A dock in the sea at which boats may anchor

That's the definition Google gave
But if you ask me,
Google doesn't know ****

Because no matter how many pages
I've searched
Or links that I've clicked
Google can never tell me how many times
you've made me laugh
more genuinely
than I thought myself capable

No algorithm can pinpoint
how many hours we spent on that
front porch swing
covered by empty Barefoot bottles
letting our heels sink in awe
of the world we had in front of us

Trust me that no "I'm Feeling Lucky" button
could ever lead me up the steps of
that little apartment
where i learned that your
dollar store pasta,
simple as it may,
will always be my favorite

And may it
not by God or some invisible hand
be the reason i believe in fate


Always my North Star,
together you and I make
a really ****** compass.
But then again we've never held
trust to anything but our guts
to tell us we are
heading in the right directions.

And so many directions we have taken,
to think all the conversations
we've held about
the places we'd end up
were just the billboards
we didn't know we were passing

Okay--maybe Google's definition wasn't so far off then.
You my friend are more than just a season
You are the life, and the warmth, and the beauty
of our favorite June night
even in the dead of winter
The fog on the windows of your house
are reminders of every breath that has escaped you, every
breath you'll never be able to catch
every breath you have stolen

Enough to heat a home.

So i know that no matter how rough the waters
or smooth my ocean's floor,
I, my lonely ship,
know I can always have a place to anchor

Hannah Wallace Jul 2015
I found a home
In the heart of what you said to me:
That you didn't trust yourself.

But I trust you like I'd trust
the kindling to fuel our friendly fire.
Never quite ablaze but always holds a smolder.

I'd trust you to
feel me, and know me, and hurt me
and still be the person I want to talk to
on my cloudiest of days.

Because I'd rather feel pain than
feel numb
and I'd rather try my best
than be done.

Because the beauty in your eyes
isn't a color,
It's knowing that there
is a depth behind for me to find.

Your complexity
Strikes a curiosity in me
that wants to break you down
to build you up.
Because a mountain of you
would always be worth the climb
No matter
how rough the weather.

And I know that these are things I've
said before,
My entire existence
banes from redundancy.

But you are new
and you understand
the bluest of my hues
because you have them too.

Part of me wants
to shine in the darkest corners
of your heart.
But the other part
knows you are not looking
for a flashlight in me.

I've been here before.
It's starting to look
familiar again.
The thing about living life
next to a window
is that you always have a view of
what's on the other side.

But a view of you
makes me grateful
that I have the best seat.
Hannah Wallace Mar 2015
I want to be a poet.
To have words
so forthcoming
so forlorn
so foreign
that they strike
your ears perked
and echo
the white noise
that surrounds us

I want to pour mountains
in to your eyes
so tamed
but so enticing,
and always just a little
bit beyond your reach.

I want to be a generator
and fill you up
when i see your eyes
being to fall below
your depression.

I want to brush my fingers across
the bits of skin
that stick out
and make you squirm
but cause you to smile like
when you see the sun
for the first time
after a rain storm.

I want to be the wind that
runs across your collar
causing you to turn
closer to me.
I want to collect your warmth
in a jar
and carry it in my knapsack
so when I need
a totem
to get me through the day
I can open up
a little bit of you.

I want to capture
that glimmer in your eye
that tells me I am worth
so much more than I imagine.
I want to paint you onto
every blank canvas
though no rendition I
could every re-create
would have not even
half of the life
I found in your heart.
But i could try.

I want to be your first drink of water
After being in the heat.
trickle down your throat
like the tickle of a feather
leaving you wanting more
and yet fulfilled at the same time.
I want to be the glove that
fits around your hand
so that I could hold you
all day long
and hold your
heat inside your palm.

I want to be the cloud
that catches your attention
Finding shapes in me
connecting the lines I
have lost along the way.
I want to be the snowflake
that sits on your eyelashes
as they bat up and down
fluttering the kisses
of a butterfly to every

i want to be an island
in the middle of your sea.
isolated but not alone
because I am surrounded by you.
I want to be the wave that breaks
upon your *******,
playful banter
between the ocean and the sand
swirling in all directions
together we twist in the tide.

I want to be something to you
other than just another girl
that caught your eye
that night.
I want to matter
instead of just
be matter.

I want to be a song
That you can never stop singing
because even though you've
heard me one too many times
You are still so caught.

But now I am
the yellow light that turned red
right as you approached the intersection.
We were not made to go
in the same direction.

I want to be yours.

But everyone knows the problem
with star-crossed lovers
is that
they only cross once

Hannah Wallace Dec 2014
When my sun is down
But you're feeling up to something,
I'd catch the closest train
To take us to the world.
A world away from here

Or I'd build a fort in the living room
Complete with a damsel in distress
Only if it meant that
Your fingertips
Could save the words I
Could not speak

Or I'd float above the ceiling
To a cloud by which holds
the name of Ten
Ten, Ten. Tender
To the touch

I am no great
literary piece,
but an atom in a world
full of molecules.
Attracted to the valence
of allure

Would you catch my dreams
Somewhere in your arms?
Be the ocean for my raindrops?
Find me a picture
To smile at
In the cotton ball sky?

Be the rustle in the trees
and the stone that created
a perfect skip?
Be my glass of wine
at the end of the day
or the perfect blotch of paint
that makes the picture whole?

Because I find a beauty
Somewhere in your stranger heart.
I've imagined every life
except the one I have.
As you pass me by
I'll never have to guess what
Could have been.
I already know.
Hannah Wallace Mar 2014
I love catching a candid smile
On the face of a  lonely child.
I love a color in my favorite hue the same way
I love that I don't have to love you.

I love an afternoon light
With an ounce of a breeze.
I love that the flowers are starting to bloom
After a cold couple of weeks.

I love feeling sore
And a heavy heavy sleep.
I love feeling the wet sand
When it swallows up my feet.

I love a movie that makes me cry
Even if it's just a tear.
I love reading a story
That makes an hour feel like a year.

I love mood lighting
And the sound of water smacking a boat.
I love the way warmth feels
When the sun just begins to show.

I love girly love songs that
Make me want to sing.
I love the feeling after a concert
When my ears start to ring.

I love the energy I have
When I first try to run.
And I love a wave of relaxation
When I know I'm finally done.

I love a field of green
From the tops of the trees.
I love when a simple sentence
Creates a weakness in my knees.

I love it when a hunger
Fills my achy bones.
I love the way a meal
Can make me feel at home.

Like the way I'd stay underwater
Just to watch the light break the surface,
I'd hold my breath forever
If I thought that you were worth it.

I love that I don't have to love you
To know how to love.
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