emotion
Moisture fills the room
Water droplets paint the humid, dripping glass
It's 99 degrees!
The broken AC screams:
corona
rejects strangers in the house
Nevermind technicians
Life
is just peachy

from your happiness
flung it to the heavens
to remind you
when the cold moon shines

Underneath that coat of color
is that same blank canvas

Like flower petals, only sharper
slowly, bitingly gather in my broken, open hands
I catch the shards
of dreams, hope, love, a future-
a family.
Piece it together, you'll see
my suffering.
But in the same time,
my flowers will bloom
They will become stronger
They will become fighters
They will proudly hold up the torch of hope
Until the shards become one

To write poetry is to
tear your soul
in small pieces
and stick them down
on a piece of paper
in a wave
of overcoming power

My dreams use to bruise
my ego, until I learned to
let go of my ego and reached
for my dreams instead.

I replaced my fears with
passion for life and
the ocean doesn’t have
to calm down because
I learned how to ride
the waves.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton