Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Feb 2015 · 382
You. and your ball cap.
Heather Nicole Feb 2015
like some
depraved where's waldo
my soul never stops playing
always searching
even when i'm not
a sick joke that
in a coliseum filled
i fade but you -
well my hopeful heart
locks on You.
and your ball cap.
you and that bill
sift and swivel through
the blurred faces and i,
romantic/******* imagine
for a second
that your soul is always
searching for me too.
pre-chapel mind-wanderings
Feb 2015 · 797
19 balloons
Heather Nicole Feb 2015
19 balloons
stuffed under my
shirt clenched behind
my knees strangled
by the tips of my
teeth glued to the spaces
between every s p l a y e d f i n g e r
like some squeaky stiff
chameleon of colors
i stay put
  or else away
      they all will

F
L

O

A


T
when being in control seemed like something you were supposed to be
Feb 2015 · 628
reminisce
Heather Nicole Feb 2015
you are senior prom
in a bounce house.
a knowing look and a laugh.
stolen tortillas and an endless
smile tucked away in my elbows.
raised eyebrows, widened eyes, and
country roads - every pothole
to your house still familiar and
beloved. you are every. single.
dedicated t-swift song
(remember when we sang
at the tops of our lungs?).
i love you for being
the words i could never say,
the heart i am always happy to know.
Feb 2015 · 438
winter chill
Heather Nicole Feb 2015
millions of miles away,
still the thought and voice of you
wrapped around me kept me warm.
but apathy blew through the trees
to your bones till
the chill put out
our little hopeful hearth.
the distance remains yet
now the miles between our hearts
has revealed a separation
and left me shivering.
this winter cannot be as bitter
as i am, trying to remember
how to just be alone.
my numb hands mourn
the pretty warmth of you -
yet all the same,
summer will arrive soon,
casting shadows on my mind,
concealing visions of you and
the starkness of my solitude
until winter comes again.
For when we almost made it to spring break.

— The End —