haunting
blossoms,
          lustful skies
   turn my daydreams
       but to nigh.

          gentle nightmares
       keep me sane
and     keep this
              hope
   locked in my brain
    
            i won't say
i        like it
    i never will
         but at least
  this way
my thoughts
         won't spill

Fear wakes you up.
My arms scrape the branches as I climb.
I feel the dry earth beneath my feet.
Never more excited, never more afraid.

The blossoms dance down,
Pink,
And I can feel the heat as I tremble,
Imagining the jump.

The ravens taunt me-
They say I won’t do it.
Maybe I won’t.
But then I would miss the joy of falling.

My wild, blonde curls
Get snagged in the trees- ow!
It will be worth it.
I remind myself it will.

Little critters squeal at me,
Some in encouragement, some not.
I reach for the comfort of my fluffy pillow,
Who isn’t there.

I’ve reached the top.
I can touch the sky.
Violet, blue, yellow, orange.
The perfect mix.

I’ve forgotten my fear, my worries.
I am invincible.
It’s just me, the cliff, the water, the sky.
Freedom.

As I walk to the edge, I feel soft grass
Beneath my feet.
There is still some of the morning’s dew
Though that was so long ago.

Now, ***** and wet,
I carefully walk to the edge.
In, out.
In, out.

Do it, I tell myself.
Go.
So I do.
I jump.

I have to say-
the best part is falling.
For just a moment, I feel free again-
Not scared. Then everything floods back.

I thrash and scream-
Then I’m in the water.
Swimming, breathing.
Laughing.

I’ve conquered the cliff-
And the jump.
And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that
fear wakes you up.

scars are poetic.

with their twisted faith

they remind us of the past,

a remembrance

kind of wraith.

and songs are poetic,

a memory-to-be,

and a reminding

of who

we used to be.

and stars are poetic,

how they twinkle

in the dark.

they can pull people together;

create a sort of spark.

so take your scars,

take your songs,

and take your stars.

because you are poetic,

you create your own memoir.