Jan 2015
Winter
I remember
being a small child
and loving
winter.
I remember going inside
and being hit with
warmth.
the fire,
the hot cocoa,
the love.
8 years later
I was the icicle
on the home
I thought he was.
little did I know,
I would hit the ground.
broken into tiny little pieces
but
slowly I pieced myself
back together.
though it was too late,
the fire was out.
I was winter.
cold.
bitter.
shattered.
Spring
when you're younger
all you see
are the beautiful flowers.
all I saw was the
never ending rain.
but flowers come from rain
and I had been trapped inside
for far too long.
I found a field
and collected every flower
that caught my eye.
it kept me entertained,
amused.
I would pluck a petal off,
and save it away.
but you can only pluck
so many flowers
until you've decided you're
done.
I was still so unsure
but the longer I gazed
the more my need intensified.
there he was - the one
Summer
being with him
is like looking at the sun
while wearing sunglasses.
you trust a tiny lens
will protect your fragile human eyes
from this giant ball of fire.
but looking at him didn't hurt
and I didn't need a shield.
I didn't need protection.
so I closed my eyes
and gave myself to the
warmth
feeling the flames engulf me,
my entire being.
this isn't a dangerous warmth.
this is the warmth I felt
as a child.
finally,
I was home.
Fall*
will always be
my most treasured season.
it's filled with
chilly winds and
warm fires.
crunching leaves and
beautiful setting skies.
he makes me feel
every
single
one
of those things.
he is the chilly winds at night
to remind me to breathe in
the smell of fall
and feel its life course through me
he is the warm fire burning
my face with desire
showing me all i've ever dreamt of.
he is the crunching leaves
showing me that even
the smallest of joys can come from
one crunchy leaf.
lastly,
he is the beautiful setting skies
he's the oranges, the reds
the pinks, and the blues
all swirled together.
showing me that even though
things are different.
they can come together
to make something absolutely
b r e a t h t a k i n g
I remember
being a small child
and loving
winter.
I remember going inside
and being hit with
warmth.
the fire,
the hot cocoa,
the love.
8 years later
I was the icicle
on the home
I thought he was.
little did I know,
I would hit the ground.
broken into tiny little pieces
but
slowly I pieced myself
back together.
though it was too late,
the fire was out.
I was winter.
cold.
bitter.
shattered.
Spring
when you're younger
all you see
are the beautiful flowers.
all I saw was the
never ending rain.
but flowers come from rain
and I had been trapped inside
for far too long.
I found a field
and collected every flower
that caught my eye.
it kept me entertained,
amused.
I would pluck a petal off,
and save it away.
but you can only pluck
so many flowers
until you've decided you're
done.
I was still so unsure
but the longer I gazed
the more my need intensified.
there he was - the one
Summer
being with him
is like looking at the sun
while wearing sunglasses.
you trust a tiny lens
will protect your fragile human eyes
from this giant ball of fire.
but looking at him didn't hurt
and I didn't need a shield.
I didn't need protection.
so I closed my eyes
and gave myself to the
warmth
feeling the flames engulf me,
my entire being.
this isn't a dangerous warmth.
this is the warmth I felt
as a child.
finally,
I was home.
Fall*
will always be
my most treasured season.
it's filled with
chilly winds and
warm fires.
crunching leaves and
beautiful setting skies.
he makes me feel
every
single
one
of those things.
he is the chilly winds at night
to remind me to breathe in
the smell of fall
and feel its life course through me
he is the warm fire burning
my face with desire
showing me all i've ever dreamt of.
he is the crunching leaves
showing me that even
the smallest of joys can come from
one crunchy leaf.
lastly,
he is the beautiful setting skies
he's the oranges, the reds
the pinks, and the blues
all swirled together.
showing me that even though
things are different.
they can come together
to make something absolutely
b r e a t h t a k i n g
(Pittsburgh)
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