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AJ 17h
He was a puppy,
Blue eyes, stubby tail, floppy ears.
We walked every day
                Sometimes twice or three times
And he loved every one.
Chasing squirrels, watching birds,
Looking back toward me
Showing love the way only a dog can.

He got bigger, our times together did too.
Then my little girl was born into this life
          And suddenly I didn’t have time.
No time for walks
No time for lounging
No time for ear scratches watching rain
No time no time no time!

I wish I had taken the time.

Yesterday he crossed the rainbow bridge.
Seven years is entirely too few.
It felt like this could never happen
Like he’d be there no matter what
But I wasn’t there for him.
I had to say goodbye through a grainy
Video.
And now he’s gone.

I wish I had taken the time.

How many times I walked past him?
How many times I didn’t reach out?
How many times I kept on going about
My day?
But what about his day?
Wasn’t I his whole day?
Wasn’t I his morning, noon, and night?
Wasn’t my attention all he wanted?

I wish I had taken the time.

And now…
God ****** now… HOW?!
How do I explain to a 3 year old
That Duke isn’t coming home today?
That Duke’s bed will always be empty?
That Duke’s fish won’t need food in it?
That Duke’s leash will gather dust?
That we’ll never hear his ears shaking
Or his feet tapping
Or his “ahh-rooo” howling?
That he’s gone

I wish I had taken the time.

Why didn’t I just take the ******* time?
We’re on vacation this week and our 7 year old Weimaraner presented very lethargic at the boarding facility where we took him. They rushed him to the emergency vet but there was nothing they could do. So we had to say good bye to our best boy Duke over a cell phone video call. And now we’re left in shambles for what to do to handle this
The future worries me:
all of the unknown possibilities.
Indecision overcomes my mind,
at the time I most need it precise.

I even cried tonight,
looking at a list of courses:
mystifying options that I may not have
if I can’t write the essay right
or get the shiniest recommendations.

So I am worrisome,
for the next month and year.

I am worrisome because I want nothing more
than to be part of that place,
and to belong among those people.
I have to start applying to universities and this is how I feel about that in this moment.
Don't you worry
Go back to sleep
You'll always know
Where I will be
In you're dreams
While you're fast asleep
You're never alone
Go back to sleep
Dreamland
The rain on my roof
the rain in my heart
feed on each other
Haiku
Kalliope Jun 1
She lived her life like this-since she was fourteen,
Could never tell reality from her daydreams
Until she met disappointment,
that's a good tell,
This isn't wonderland Alice-
its your personal hell
And you can blame bad luck, **** cards, the wrong genes,
At the end of the day
these are YOUR seams.
This is real life,
stitches need upkeep
yet you're so surprised
its not like in your sleep-
where you're adventurous,
mouthy, and tall
Not this anxious ball of anger,
tremendously scared to fall.
Fear is ever controlling when you let ot grow past the make believe
A diversion at play,
A separatist dismay.
To inform you of worry,
So that now you’re sorry.
No self for you,
You have what comes due.
Colors they besiege,
To fill their barbaric siege.
Tell them woe thee.
And now, worries see.
Weakness in what is selfless,
Holy what they draw out.
They slander what they spout.
They are superior,
For their inferior.
Nonsense at play,
So don’t let it dismay.
History repeats,
But you have the cheats.
Let them be,
So they can end what they see.
Do not worry, as long as you know what is what, let it pass like a wave in your journey.
Yusuf May 10
within my loom of ribs
the warps and wefts watch
as i insert bloodied strings
expecting them
to ask me
if im ok.

They don't.
Jesus' baby May 1
Diseased
Sores bloomed on my soul—
a garden of pain,
thorned with worry,
tended by doubt.

Anxieties gnawed the edges of my mind,
each thought a wave
crashing against fragile faith.

Diseased.
I exhaled despair
onto the ulcers
that blistered my skin—
a silent cry only heaven heard.

Then,
His Spirit gathered me
like a wind gathers ashes.
In the hush of His Presence,
I was not condemned—
I was cleansed.

My spirit, once bound,
now shouted:
Victory.
Freedom.
Peace.

The sores on my soul
simmered into silence,
their fire quenched
by mercy.
I emerged—
clean,
pure,
whole.

My mind, once a battlefield,
now rested in light.
My soul, once silenced,
began to hum its healing.
My spirit realigned,
cradled in the rhythm of grace.

La, la, la—
my spirit danced.

Li, li, li—
my soul replied.

And my body—
once weary—
now moved
to the tempo of testimony:
Hallelujah.
My testimony.
Reece Apr 24
I have some penultimate words to say,
Some final thoughts to escape my brain,
So, for a final time,
I’ll give you a piece of my mind.

Sometimes the subtleties pass us by,
The simple things of daily life,
While we complain about the mundane,
We forget the blessings right in front of our eyes.
From the birds who sing in the trees,
To the blooming flowers, pollinated by the bees.
All of these,
Help us see how pretty life can be.

I’ve learned some lessons over this year,
Those lessons I’ll take to heart,
Like sometimes “friends” leave you behind,
And it’s okay to hurt, but not to break apart.
Most people follow the crowd,
And that’s fine with me,
I’ll follow my own path,
To be renowned.

I firmly believe that each life is a story,
One worth reading,
Good, bad, or ugly,
There’s a lesson to be learned,
And you can think critically,
As the pages are turned.
After all, no one wants to be forgotten,
Or perhaps, some do,
I find that a tragic fate,
True doom.

It’s time again,
To quote a song by Alec Benjamin,
This one being my favorite,
Titled “I’m Not A Cynic.”
“I’m not a cynic, but today’s just not my day,
I’ve tried to spin it about a thousand different ways,
But from every angle, oh, the outcome is the same,
I swear that I’m not a cynic; my glass just has no water in it today.”
This one holds dear to me,
Because sometimes my sky is gray,
That doesn’t mean I’m a downer,
It just depends on the day.
I know my mood is mine to control,
But faking is a poison.
It’s okay to let the emotions flow,
I find it a positive notion.

This year has been a journey,
Far more challenging than the last,
I started off in the clouds,
Now I’m stranded in the past.
Friends have moved on,
Or perhaps, I pushed them away.
Who knows who I’ll be,
Junior year, on the first day?
I know life is a bunch of doors,
But a problem arises,
If you’re not willing,
To take a step.
However, if everyone stood still,
Life would be rather boring,
Wouldn’t it?
So I’ll take a step onto the water,
Hoping I don’t fall through,
Praying I won’t fall through.
Then I’ll take another,
Perhaps, it’ll be easier,
Than the first.
Before I know it, I’ll be walking,
Then running, to sprinting,
Clinging desperately,
To anything that I can take with me.
I clasp my hands on the doorknob,
And open it with haste,
And step through with a smile,
Not regretting a thing.
Though bittersweet nostalgia,
Might try its best to blind,
I’ll make better memories,
To shield my watery eyes.
Years down the road,
Wherever I may be,
Hopefully I’d found,
Some sense of security.
I’ll look back with pride,
At my sixteen-year-old self,
And applaud my bravery,
To take the first step.

Near the end of April,
And sophomore year is nearly down the drain,
I think overall,
I’m in a better place.
Ups and downs littered the road,
But I swerved and curved,
And through these poems,
I lightened the load.
Another thing ends tonight,
Sitting here as I write,
The conclusion to the final,
The final piece of my mind.

Wherever the road may lead next,
No matter how far or how scary,
I’ll follow it and reflect,
And make it to my ending.
The end of this little series. I appreciate all of you who have read all four! It means a lot!
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