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storm siren Jan 2017
I will never be
Given vast displays of affection.
I will never make that kind of connection.
I will only ever be me,
My own worst enemy.
I will always come face to face with my own pale complexion,
Never reaching perfection,
In fear of this self-inflicted constant rejection.
Some kind of hell I've made, constructed so carefully.

And haven't you heard?
Just like always,
I have broken wings,
And I'm just a little bird,
In search of steadfast praise,
To heal my threadbare heartstrings.
Woo sonnets
storm siren Jul 2016
A sensation
Of cold air
Shivering
Chattering teeth.

I'm back sitting by the chain link fence,
Waiting for them to pick teams for dodgeball,
Or basketball,
Or what was it?
"Fred" ball?

I remember looking for you.
Wondering where you'd gone.

It was overcast,
I could smell the rain coming in.
First time I realized,
It was late in fall that I remembered,
Snow had a smell.

And dragons and dogs and animals filled our days at school,
We played games, different name, same game of tag over and over
When at home I'd go back to the screaming,
To the cold,
To the hunger.
A girl and her dog,
Wondering what her friends were up to.

Black outs and ****** paper clips
Turned to livid men and bruised abdomens and hips.

And every other month,
During September and January,
I wondered what would have happened if I had
Given you that valentine I threw away.

I want to tell you so many things,
But how do I tell you,
How do I tell you
I care more than
I knew.

I was shivering when I got home,
Teeth clattering,
Bad day,
Tears in my eyes.

I put on my nightgown,
Your sweatshirt,
And wrapped myself in a blanket,
Wanting to hear back from you.

Is it odd
That I don't know how to say
You've made my day.
I hope you know
I was okay without you,
But part of me is a little (a lot)
More whole by your side.

And sometimes I think of your laugh,
Then and now,
And I remember
The butterflies then,
And the warmth now.

And it's just ******* crazy,
Because I was a little bird,
With a broken wing.
Who was convinced I couldn't fly.

You were the bluebird of peace,
I had been searching for
For so long.

And I could listen
To your voice
Your heartbeat
Your words
All day.

I don't know what this means,
But it's easier by your side,
Than any place I've ever lived,
Any halfway house I've ever been.

I've always wanted to belong,
And finally I can see
The problem wasn't me.
It was a me without a you.

Tonight I want to dream
Of spiraling sunset red and soft oranges
Draped over a background of
The most beautiful seafoam blues and greens
I've ever come to know.
To my bluebird of peace (he might be offended if he knew that's what I refer to him as)

— The End —