I yearn to grow and float away
As petals do in the wind
Follow the air
And follow my heart.
I don’t know where I’m going
But I know I will land.
My roots hold me back
Crawling up my frame and pulling me down
To the earth where I
Started to bloom.
Maybe I’m a lotus.
Dormant in one spot
Being used only when needed.
Blossoming and folding back up
its the only home that’s
Give me a push in the right direction.
Move the currents and tides
So I can float downstream.
Exhale your winds on my petals
Spinning in the air
Falling towards a new home
Starting my own roots.
I don’t know where I’m going
But I know I will land
I want to marry you next to a
Field of flowers
On a sunny day with
Thunderclouds looming behind us while the
Ceremony takes place.
I want lightening to strike when we say “I do”
And thunder to clap when we take our first kiss and
Our first steps into
A waterfall next to the reception,
Where the younger kids could swim and play
(If there even were any).
You could dip your feet in, too ,
Or watch me while I float on my back
Living in the moment of love, light
I won’t care if my dress gets wet
Or if my makeup smudges
We’ll take pictures barefoot playing in mud;
Because that’s what our love is: fun, simple, and whatever we want it to be.
happy valentine’s day folks
it’s been almost 2 years
since we last spoke.
you are still up on your hill
on top of your mountain
when i’m now down in the valley
it’s not as cold here but
the wind is a whisper of you
that seeps into my dreams
here lately and i wish i could
write this to you on notebook paper
and send it in a cardboard box along with
the hoodies i didn’t mean to steal
the basketball shorts and the
muscle shirt with your last name on the back
that i once thought would also
but it remains in my storage
where i also keep the memories of you
in the attic of my being
behind promises that inevitably went
closed doors where our secrets lie
so here we are, comfortable without each other like we never thought we would and
loving other people like we never thought we could.
so i’ll meet you in my dreams until
you stop coming by
and that night maybe i will be tucked into the arms of my lover or
alone with cold bed sheets
my first love,
i will never completely forget you.
untitled pt. 2
i did not want to say goodbye
not entirely, at least.
but i had to
i had to
i had to
and look at us now.
step into the cold night
my boots crunching in the snow
to the spot behind my house
where i can smoke without feeling
listening to soft beats in my ears
my hands are cracked and cold
lifting the fire to my teeth.
the stars are out, though
and i can see the moon above the trees.
i’m by myself in this corner of
siding and snow
my feet are starting to freeze to the ground
but somehow it’s worth it
when i can see the faint snowfall
in the light of the midnight street lamp.
6 minutes of crisp freedom and solitude
i think i might have another one.
you water it.
you place it under some sun, or
maybe outside on the edge of your
you don’t throw it out or
think it’s unworthy
now when you feel yourself start to wilt,
what should you do?
Imagine a little girl. Rosy red Chubby cheeks, blonde hair with bangs
That her mother curled that morning
With bright blue eyes always looking up
Towards the sky.
She loved her toys.
(stuffed animals, dolls)
She spent a lot of time playing
Alone since her brother was older
And her parents either were sleeping
Or 'too busy to play'
(though this wasn’t true every time.)
A heart full of wonder,
She spent her free time singing along to her CDs
And making up stories
To commentate her toy playing.
She wanted to be a 'pop star'.
She wanted to be a vet.
She wanted to be an author.
She wanted to see the world.
She loved learning and waking up
Every day to moms sing-song voice
"good morning sunshine!"
However her parents
Unlike the girl
Were adults, and very realistic
And didn’t encourage the girl
As much as she probably needed it.
So when they sat both the little girl and the brother down,
2 days after Christmas,
(the tree was still up)
And told them they were splitting up,
She ran to her room and cried and cried and wrote in her
Pink fuzzy diary how she didn’t understand why
They could ever do that to her.
When the packing day came,
She still couldn’t believe it.
Given a large bag to begin cleaning out the room,
She filled it to the brim with stuffed animals,
Handed it to her aunt and said "I'm done."
Twelve years later
The families have grown
Some strings have been cut,
But others retied.
She struggled last year.
Depression, anxiety, you know the mix.
But she's now realizing
Instead of hating the past
She will be grateful for it and learn
To figure herself out
To grow and bloom
Like she once never thought she would ever be