Anne Blackwood

United States

16
Christian
Theatre kid
Singer (soprano)
Poet
Twin (fraternal)
Spoonie
Disfusive
A bit empathic
Living oxymoron
Kindness Krusader: Blueberry cotton candy
XXFJ, Melancholic-Sanguine, ambivert

Joined 1/16/20

Message from Writer

For everyone who's sat on a tree branch and thought for a while
Or someone who wanted to

Reading | Cub Creek (A Cub Creek Series Book 1)

Mom to FantasyOtter12, lochnessie, mindfruit, Rohan's Defender, & all
Sis to happy butterfly
birthdaycandles & happygiggles are my apple juice Jesus sisters

Dating Kristoff? He's got a reindeer, good sense of self... He's got it all.

My profile picture is my "personal crest" I designed and commissioned.

keepsunnyaroundfoundation.cake.org (credit: happy butterfly)

"I was born singing. Most babies cry. I sang an aria."
~ Fairest (book) by Gail Carson Levine

Anxiety must-reads:
https://bit.ly/2YUyome
https://bit.ly/2TsNYSa
And pray. That's the only reason I'm free now.

Published Work

Charcoal Boy


His skin was the color of charcoal. Not the filthy, charred kind, but rather the kind used to sketch a masterpiece or to color in the evening sky.

300 followers gratitude piece


I could blame my teary eyes
On allergies or PMS
But I think it is joy
And a large helping of shock

Thanksgiving is coming up
I have so many things to be thankful for
Listing them would take far too long
But three hundred of them have names

motions of awakening (republishing for peer review)


    the girl was like a sunflower. not in the way of being tall, yellow, and the center of attention. but rather in the way that she appeared almost completely still and alone, and if you watched her for hours, you wouldn't notice her change or grow. yet at the end of the day, you'd see that she'd been following the sun the whole time, moving ever so slightly in her quiet little world that she shared with the light.
    the girl was like a magpie. not in the way of being loud, careless, and popular. but rather in the way that she was so innocent and free. and she collected the small, discarded things of the world, treasuring them always, like the rusty pocket watch she found underneath a park bench, or the black kitten with a missing eye that wandered in from the woods.
    the girl was like a cloud. not in the way of...

inconsistent ramblings of my nom de plume (republishing for peer reviews)


i love queen anne's lace, but i think that's only because it's the name i bestowed upon myself. but
i am not a queen. a princess, maybe; a golden sprite
who just wants to spread a little bit of fairy dust as she flies among the flowers and leaves.

my poems are not usually very long. some writers craft words into writing that drifts on and on,
like bits of spider silk twisting itself through the wind.
no, when i write, i am pulled between never-ending verse and
something concise.

sometimes i pretend a song belongs to me, that each word was crafted in my mind.
can you blame me? when music pours out of my heart, it isn't a sin to wish for it to have my name on it, any more than it is to
pick a favorite spot at the edge of the bleachers and label it as my own.

and now i've written more than i...

A Letter to the Heartless


To all who wish to use/manipulate/shatter me:

I'll probably let you.
I'll probably let you, and that scares me.

My heart is so big, and I let everyone in.
Everyone.
That shouldn't be a bad thing, but there is evil in this world.
I wish I could say I was bright enough
to see it coming, but I have a love-first, ask questions later policy.
And when love grows into trust, it's not always earned.

In class one day, we discussed our flaws.
Each person took turns agreeing
that they trust slowly.
And I had to admit that I have arms wide open.

You can read my emotions on my face.
I'd like to believe that you'll handle them with the utmost care,
but I know that there are those
who choose to twist and burn, and

I'll probably let you.
I'll probably let you, and that scares me.

Haze of Thought (republishing for peer reviews)


The world is burning and I am nowhere near it
Smoke seeps into my skies from flames far away
I clutch oxygen to my lips and breathe in stolen air
My rebel heart throws it to the ground to taste freedom
But all I smell is smoke and remnants of others' pain
I choke and gasp until freedom brings too many burns

So I silence the screams around me and cry for myself
When my focus isn't outward, my heart screams louder
Sickness in my bones swallows patience and peace
I wonder why I still feel a haze of ashes left behind
But the flames were coming from within me all along

in the thrall of the stars (republishing for peer reviews)


i'm holding my breath as letters flood through my veins; a fluid far richer than blood yet every bit as indispensable
ravenous with gilded desperation for passion and life

i search for the secrets of this majesty
maybe it's fate that i do not understand

so i settle for describing my awe; it gives me an illusion of weilding your glory
and i continue to plant dandelions next to castles of mystery and sage
even as i fail to capture the moledro burn

The Internal Monologues of Those Who Are Split Between Two Opposite Temperament Types


For the Sanguine-Melancholies (and Melancholic-Sanguines)

Sanguine: Yayyy let's go run around in that field and have fun!!
Melancholy: No! We have responsibilities and an image to uphold.
Sanguine: Uhhh, what were those responsibubblies again?
Melancholy: I told you to remember that! Okay, let's get out our list.
Sanguine: About that... I may have forgotten to make one.
Melancholy: Ugh, you're the reason we never get anything done right.
Sanguine: Well, I'm also the only reason we ever have any fun! Like that one time when we spent the whole night writing poetry and listening to music. I love doing that. And I know you do too. As much as you like to go on and on about order, I think you like music. And poetry! Something about nice lines and editi--
Melancholy: Stay on topic!
Sanguine: Right! Topic! Um, what were we talking about again?
Melancholy: Seriously? We were going to make a list of things we should do. You know, planning...

The Four Temperament Types


Since several people have asked me about the temperament types over the last couple of days, I thought I'd group it all into a little informative piece. If you really want to learn in-depth facts about the temperaments, there are several books on the topic.

    The four temperament types are, in short, personality types that are used to categorize people. They are melancholic, choleric, sanguine, and phlegmatic. Temperaments are different than personalities, however, in that you are born with the former, but the latter can adapt and change throughout your life.
    Melancholies (like me) can be somewhat intense. They're often serious and are very logic-based and detail-oriented. They tend to like plans, routines, and lists. Melancholies feel emotions strongly in a stable way (meaning for a long period of time). They are extremely perfectionistic. They have potential to take criticism too personally, but can also be a bit too critical of themselves and others due to their perfectionism.
    Common...

un-urban


    growing up / covered in dust / with no fear of the earth / the cashier greets me by name / as she scans my ginger ale / and a new leash for shiloh / no need to travel further / than my backyard / for fireflies / dancing around the fire pit
    on my first date / and half the town is rooting for us / we run away / to taste the thrills of the city / and lose ourselves / among towers of glass and steel / but we always come back / home

Alloy (republishing for peer reviews)


I am bones.
Bones and skin draping over;
Synonyms and sallow.
Water is streaming out of the showerhead,
The one that tends to miss my small frame
And hit the shower curtain instead.

I am legs.
Legs and underarms unshaved;
Skinny and sluggish.
My limbs are too exhausted to drag themselves places,
And they do not understand
Why I cannot fly today.

I am hands.
Hands and feet reaching far;
Seismic and selective.
I keep trying to obtain something constant,
But this is ice and quicksand
Always falling away from me.

I am intestines.
Intestines and muscles twisting and aching;
Sickly and sore.
Noises are coming from my stomach unwillingly,
Protesting the state of my body
And the tangling of my art.

I am head.
Head and heart fighting;
Screams and sincere.
These pieces of me are the strongest and loudest,
They misunderstand and complicate
The things I try to define.

age of the mind (republishing for peer reviews)


    remember when we stopped calling them playdates? we were self-righteous eight-year-olds scoffing at the childishness of such a term. i'm not sure which one of us started it, but we all agreed that were now “too old” for it.
    growing up is an absent-minded thing. one day we’re all chubby cheeks and sandboxes, then suddenly we’ve only got two years left. the softness of childhood sharpens as we notice the numbers spiralling upward, taking us with them.
    i can see the newest year i must grow into to and break in like a pair of shiny new shoes… sixteen.

until then, my love (message board please!)


do you have a favorite star?
i don't, but i think i'd like the sound of sirius on your lips.

you're a shooting star;
you burn so bright yet fly so far away.

but i am learning patience.
i can stay or leave, and you'll still be out there.

the universe is vast,
and i think time will wait for you to find me.

you don't need medals or a crown of perfection.
just bring faith and love, and that's perfect enough for me.

may heaven bless you, because you're heaven-sent.
and i, my dear, am here.

rotting fruit and the stench of suppression


i've always been one to respect authority / so please don't take this the wrong way / here, i'll write in lowercase to seem less combative / i love this community / you guys have done a great job / but you see, my friends are falling / like overripe peaches / they can't hold on to a dying tree / can't you see how sickening it is / when a free space / becomes a cage / just because i'm not leaving / doesn't mean i am grateful / for this change

To the Hopeless Romantics

 

  1. It's okay to want love, and it's okay to find it. Independence and partnership don't have to be mutually exclusive.
  2. Maturity is attractive. When you work hard to better yourself or reach out to help someone else, people see that, and it taps the part of their heart that yearns for forever.
  3. You are more than the love that a person bestows upon you. Your heart is precious and beautiful, even when it's broken and alone.
  4. Walk the path that you're on, not the one you wish to follow. I know how lonely it can feel when all you want is love, but if you focus all your energy on the future, you'll miss out on the beauty that is present in the waiting.
  5. In the time it takes for you to find that special person, learn more about life and your place in it, and let your heart grow. You may even discover that you were never meant to be half of...

In the Colosseum She Stands


    The arena is silent, and empty but for one lone girl kneeling in the sand. Her long brown hair is unkempt. Its mahogany waves, once playful, are now tangled and sticky with sweat and tears, and her brown skin is several shades lighter than it should be. She looks up at the seemingly never-ending rows of seats that would soon be filled with thousands of jeering spectators and shudders. They would send her to her death without a second thought. This place reeks of corruption. But she knows that she must stand firm.
    The Roman soldiers who brought her here are out of sight at the moment, but she can feel their goading presence. They wait for her to recant her beliefs. This intimidation tactic is even more effective than she had expected. Please, Yeshua, give me strength. No miraculous rush of energy fills her body, and her sobs become more desperate.
    Despite...

when the world went bankrupt


"Her bones sagged into the mattress; her heart would not stop shivering."

the night sky has lost its glimmer.
bitter foresight has ruined
my ability to feel you next to me.
that silent thief is louder than your heartbeat,
and i can no longer keep my hands from trembling.
i crave a sweet escape for us,
something stronger than this heartache,
even though it would set the universe
ablaze.

aerial sonata


The mountains bleed into the sky
like a watercolor painting.
Clouds surround the sun, neither taking charge
nor hiding away.
I sing to them, sing for them,
the rawness of my voice
smoothing out the wrinkles and burns.

She Is Beautiful

She is a mess of contradictions
"Opposites attract" written into her soul

When she speaks and her words come out skewed
She bites her tongue as if taming that rogue machine would stop the embarrassment
Then she usually laughs, because she's learned that it doesn't pay to stay serious

On occasion, she forgets and throws too many thoughts into a poem
But she to runs to her Father and is renewed

Her heart is not weak, but it can be fragile
She refuses to give up on those she loves
And she knows how to hold someone's hurting hand

It's not always easy, the way she tries so hard
Sometimes she begins to bend over backwards - in pain
But she's learning to walk with her head held high

She has music woven around the corner of her eye
Precious and imperfect

It's okay that she doesn't make sense
Messy and indescribable

Her smile will always continue to light the...

ceaseless (footnotes!!)


the fan is spinning endlessly above me,
agitating the air and sending it retreating halfheartedly around my room.
i could compare it to the swarm of thoughts inside this head of mine
asking why a ceiling fan is so similar to me.
always humming and working but never free to fly,
to climb higher and higher into the sky
instead of quietly wreaking havoc on my surroundings.

and i can hear the clock next to me
ticking away at what seems to be a life sentence of weakness.
a mocking sound that comes from desperation, see,
those hands are trapped in an infinite rotation of corrosive irony.
they are not the only thing confined to this room.
this is unlike me, the hardworking girl; my mom
raised me to be stronger than this.

and i was strong once, wasn't i?

nostalgia state of growth


old shawn mendes videos bring back memories
sweet and confusing
flying in on forgotten melodies
i'd like to say that those were simpler times (they weren't)
because that sounds more poetic
and fits in with my nostalgia

but that was before freedom
peace of mind
abandonment of clarity
in favor of trust for something more

yet i still remember
the yellow haze
galloping through friendship
embracing trees and the edge of the spotlight

and i think i'll treasure the journey in both

illness


the contents of my stomach / empty out of all orifices and directions / bend and groan / try to stay conscious / although hibernation sounds like bliss / sit / twist / collapse / fight the burning / limp then tense / until finally there is / rest

Sonderous Noise


People say it's a small world
It seems so incredibly vast to me
My town isn't that big
But it still holds thousands of people
That I've never known

I want to slow everything down
Make the planet spin more gently
Meet every person from the inside out
Hold their hearts in my hands
And release them out into the sky

I think this world is the loudest thing
Billions of flames marching endlessly
I wonder what would happen
If for one moment we simply let our souls
Whisper

My Woodland Home


    You enter the woods by walking alongside the whispering stream, which is dotted with boulders and stones for perching on. Looking up at the sugar maples and yellow birch trees, you watch as the sun filters through the leaves. The birds sing and call to each other throughout the storybook scene.
    If you know what you are looking for, you will soon find a path that drifts off to your right. You know you are welcome, so you follow the smooth stones to find their source. As you glance around, you notice that the trees have changed. Someone has planted crepe myrtles to line the way. It is not quite summertime, but these purple blooms flourish all year round.
    Finally, you come across a glittering lake, and next to it, a home. You can't decide if it's a cottage, cabin, or rustic manor, so you decide that it's a charming mix of the three....

Toxic


We haven't spoken in months.
Well, you wished me a happy birthday at midnight,
but I know that's just because you never sleep
and you wanted to be the first.

You always made things into a competition.
If I told you about something I did
or bragged about a friend,
you found some sort of sarcastic way to make it seem less important.
It appeared to be all in good fun,
but you said yourself that all sarcasm is based upon truth.

Intentionally or not,
you manipulated my empathy
so that I felt like I couldn't leave you.
Your pain became my main focus.
And that ruined my judgment
and helped nothing but your ego.

Whenever you hurt me,
you told me I was just "too sensitive".
News flash:
You shutting out your emotions
doesn't invalidate mine.
I don't need to stop feeling;
you neeed to start caring that other people do.

One day while we were joking around,
your...

Fingerprints of Change


I woke up one morning,
and while changing my clothes,
I happened to look down.
Red streaks marked my skin.

Fear clutched my heart as it tried to comprehend
why the blanket of tissue covering it
was different.

Panicked googling lead to confusing discoveries.
"Stretch marks"
Mind racing to understand
why I'd have them.
I thought those were for pregnant women
and those who lose weight quickly.

More research lead me to realize that
this is normal
for those who change all at once.
But I'm practically as flat as ever...

The pondering leads to another question.
If this is natural for teen girls,
why isn't it normalized?

These are things I shouldn't be afraid of,
so they should be explained
and celebrated,
not hidden away for a terrifying surprise.

Still, I stayed quiet about my experience
until I stumbled over those thoughts again.
Realizing the power my gift gave me,
I picked up my laptop
and began to write.

inconsistency


you invite me to go
but when i say i can't help you
you want me to stay

if i stay you won't get help
if i go you won't get help
so why can't we just have fun together
once the work is done

the worst part is if i talk to you
you'll just get stressed and raise your voice
i'll get more emotional
and that makes you angry for reasons i don't understand
(i never do)
maybe it reminds you of your flaws
maybe you're just overwhelmed

the point is i'd be crying
you'd be yelling
you'd try to fix it by coming back
to take me where i want

but what i really want
is you to want me all the time

sure we'd end up silently making up
and having some sort of fun
because that's better than sulking

but you wouldn't understand you'd done anything wrong
and i'd just be waiting
for the next bomb...

midnight melodies


        music hits you in a different way / after dark / seeping
into every crevice of your soul / like a river in slow motion
        or the gradual transformation of a heart / in the sun

miserable


blankets twisting
pillows piled
eyelids drifting
stomach wild

hours wasted
nothing done
sickness tasted
lost sun

Unfragile


My heart is not made of glass.
You can reach out and touch it.
It is flesh and blood, beating and hoping.
Faith, mystery, and joy
wind through pathways I've made my home.

Look at the ceiling, look at the floor.
They weren't always so strong.
They've broken time after time
until the scars became ink and history.

And there are pieces of
that try to shatter in shards.
But I've learned from the Best,
so my love is strong.
Take my hand, and trust me.
I won't let you go.

Being on Your Period

 

  • Trying not to cry over rice
    • And corgis
  • Please don't let there be blood on my bedshee--oh shoot
  • "But I'm uglyyy!!"
    • "​Wait no I'm so beautiful"
      • *cries*
  • Too nauseous to eat one minute and devouring the pantry the next
  • Needing a heating pad for cramps but sweating like a pig because of it
  • "SHUT UP!!"
    • shoot
      • "Sorry!!!"
  • CHOCOLATE

you've started pronouncing the v in baklava



i caught you calling fetir "spinach pies"
falafels have lost their exotic intensity
and sabanach is merely "spinach and rice"

the names you use with other people
are slipping into our home

i love that you're making extra money by selling these things
but don't give away your culture
just so we can have a more comfortable christmas

there's no tax return on my heritage

Rescue


I keep choosing this false world over You
The cycle of instant gratification pours into my brain
Lost in my escapism and drowning myself in apathy
Yet You pursue my heart like I've done no wrong
You've seen my mistakes and paid for them too
I deserve nothing but pain and judgement
But with one word I realize You're still holding me

Nashville Collisions


A startling meeting in the city
"Is that you" and "How are you here"
In front of a rustic coffee shop

One is visiting a friend and considering a move
The other is living in town
Their worlds clash and abruptly stop

Awkward questions
And golden memories
All exchanged in the summer heat

"I'm sure you're busy"
"I'll let you be on your way"
"Unless you'd like to get something to eat..."

indifference dividing (message board!)


and maybe one day you'd see me differently
i wouldn't wish an end for you
but i can't help but wonder if i'd be your next
beginning

when one door shuts
look for a window

and i'm not made of brilliant glass panes
but you can sit next to me and dream
or cry
and i'll stay with you either way
just to be

with
you

and that's pretty symbolism
but it's somewhat
pointless
since we're separated by miles

and miles
of detachment

Pathway of Freedom | My dream from last night | read footnotes


    I'm in a society where you are sorted into different paths of life at my age (16). I am chosen to fly (through some sort of magic) and dance. The dancing is very important, but not darkly spiritual or anything like that. More of a lovely ritual for entertainment and teaching through this traditional art form.
    I fly up into the sky, over a large tree and over to a street corner where my good friend C is standing. He was not chosen to be a flight dancer (those two pathways are not mixed as one path, but those who dance always fly). I fly around him in a promise never to forget him and return to my pathway.

That Sort of Person

Those Sorts of Writers

 

  1. He's the kind of guy that will bend over backward to make sure you feel seen, even if at the moment he isn't feeling that way himself.
  2. She's the sort of person that everyone looks up to, but won't let that stop her from helping others along.
  3. She's the kind of girl who will never back down from what she believes (hint: truth and love largely factor into that).
  4. She's the kind of writer who'll defend both characters and people she loves at a moment's notice.
  5. She's the sort of girl who spreads love gently, in the sweetest and most astounding of ways.
  6. She's the kind of person that spreads joy through thoughtful comments that really make you smile.
  7. She's the sort of girl that everyone wants to befriend due in part to her uncanny ability to make people giggle.
  8. She's the kind of person who is so thoughtful and kind to others that she sometimes needs to be reminded that...

Speechwriting Competition 2020

Camouflage, Cover, Conceal: The Makeup Trap (link in footnotes)

 
    I want all of you to look at me. Examine my features for just a moment. What do you see? Be as critical as you want to be. Maybe you see my acne, red spots that flare up when I get stressed or don’t get enough sleep. You could be noticing that I look preeetty tired.
    Or maybe you looked at me through a different lens. You might have thought, I wish my skin was a fair as hers, or Why can’t my eyebrows have such a nice arch? If you’re like the majority of people, one of the first things you see in others is what you don’t have. Society constantly plants seeds of jealousy into the hearts of women and girls, warping their minds to want to be like others. Whether it’s the thickness of their hair or the straightness of their teeth, it’s easy to be envious of other peoples’ looks.
    For a lot...

Speechwriting Competition 2020

Camouflage, Cover, Conceal: The Makeup Trap (link in footnotes)

 
    I want all of you to look at me. Examine my features for just a moment. What do you see? Maybe you see my acne, red spots that flare up when I get stressed or don’t get enough sleep. You could be noticing that I look preeetty tired.
    Or maybe you looked at me through a different lens. You might have thought, I wish my skin was a fair as hers, or Why can’t my eyebrows have such a nice arch? If you’re like the majority of people, one of the first things you see in others is what you don’t have. Society constantly plants seeds of jealousy into the hearts of women and girls, warping their minds to want to be like others. Whether it’s the thickness of their hair or the straightness of their teeth, it’s easy to be envious of other peoples’ looks.
    For a lot of people, especially females, the solution to their...

Why I Write

ineffable


    writing can't be stopped, only postponed. place a lid over its beauty, and it finds a way to push it away, or better, climb around it, breaking boundaries in its chaos. it pounds out an ear-splitting rhythm, like a runaway train desperately trying to find a home.
    that analogy isn't completely mine, but the best things in life are copied over and over until they separate themselves from their origin. they abandon their source, but the heart of their nucleus will always emit the same color light, pulsing into the universe until it all goes dark.

imposter


    looking over my shoulder in the drugstore parking lot / don't notice me / my dad pushes my wheelchair through the store / in search of these special socks / please let them work
    nervous giddiness permeates my body / my hands fumble along the wheels / as i try to steer myself / it's not as hard as i thought it would be / but i wasn't prepared for the second glances / at a girl who looks perfectly fine

Answers (Health Update)


eating breakfast in the passenger seat
preparing for a long drive south
laughing and singing to distract from the suspense
hoping against hope for answers

a crowd of buildings i've never seen
i am directed up elevators, down halls
testing and waiting, waiting for this special doctor

he enters with questions and examinations
if i was hoping for a perfect score
i would have failed

finally, he sits me down
tells me things i already know
and things i don't

Speechwriting Competition 2020

Camouflage, Cover, Conceal: The Makeup Trap (link in footnotes)

 
    I want all of you to look at me right now. What do you see? Maybe you see my acne, red spots that flare up when I get stressed or don’t get enough sleep. You could be noticing that I look preeetty tired.
    Or maybe you looked at me through a different lens. Looking at the same person, you might have thought, I wish my skin was a fair as hers, or Why can’t my eyebrows have such a nice arch? If you’re like the majority of people, one of the first things you see in other people is what you don’t have. Whether it’s the thickness of their hair or the straightness of their teeth, it’s easy to be envious of others’ looks.
    For a lot of people, especially women and girls, the solution to their insecurities is makeup. While some use it to create, others use it to hide the things that they wish would...

Heart Places

my almost home


sunlit afternoons
movie marathons
slipping scraps to the dogs
silly confessions
casual embraces
sprawling on furniture like we own the place

All Talk

So I got to do a thing...

 
Mom: Do you wanna see Candace Owens?
Me: ...yes??
Mom: She's coming to *church name* tomorrow.
Me: WHAT?!? Wait, seriously??? I have to go! Can I see her? AAAAAAAHHH!!
Mom: I can't find the place to buy the tic--
Me: Here I found it PLEASE BUY THEM wait a second. $100?!? Shoot! Oh, wait! It's only $20 for students. Cuz we're all broke.
Brother: Can we start the show already?
Me: Yes but not now just buy the ticket already!!
Dad: Okay, okay, I got it.

lack of (un)rest


    i think my mind was supposed to have an internal conflict
about my heritage by now
but i've already gone through the getting-older crisis
and there's no struggle about my mixed identity in sight
    maybe it's because i don't feel arabic
my mom fled country, culture, and cruelty    (pain followed anyway)
everything she is belongs to her, not a nation some don't even believe in
accent and actions are just mom to me
(and i've always preferred hebrew names)
    i've visited her country of history and tradition
and i never fit in amongst tongue-clicking, coffee-drinking relatives
but i never expected to    (they were them, and i was just... me)
my passport claims i belong to that place across the sea
i don't know if that is true
    i don't look like them, talk like them, act like them
and that kind of acceptance is supposed to follow a storm
i'm just a...

How to detect and diffuse someone's sensory meltdown


    Hi, all. I don't do many informative pieces, but I realized that I have the ability to help a lot of people with the information I have.
    First, a little background. Several years ago, I was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder. This is prevalent in people with autism, but fairly rarely seen alone. To make a long story short, people with SPD experience different senses in a way that isn't "normal". Some people may crave deep pressure (i.e. a weighted blanket), are bothered or even severely distressed by certain sounds, are very picky eaters, enjoy spinning and rocking, develop headaches when exposed to strong smells, or have an extreme sensitivity to loud noises.
    If these people are faced with one of their triggers, it can be very overwhelming, and sometimes painful. They experience what is called a sensory overload, which can lead to a sensory meltdown. Telltale signs that someone is about to enter this state are...

So Be You


You are like my favorite character's boyfriend.
Well, he's actually just my favorite character,
but to most of the world, he's only
the boyfriend.

You are strong. I don't think I've ever met a boy so strong
that he exudes a quiet assurance
that occasionally bursts out of him in the form
of laughter.

You are constantly reminding me
of my seventh-grade crush; kind to a fault,
full of life and faith in Someone bigger.
But he was golden and perfect, and you are different.
Real.

You are someone I do not know, someone I cannot have.
But I watch from a distance, and
I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
So if you are only alive in Instagram reels, yearbook photos, and drama class memories...
so be it.

The Erasure of a Tribute | A dream I had last night


    I have been selected for The Hunger Games. C* is the other tribute from my district. I know that the only way for me to make out of this situation alive is for me to change my name on my ID certificate so they cannot find me. We all have pencils, but the erasers and highlighters are in a guarded room.
    All of the tributes, including D**, are in the crowd as a speech is made. I help a blind toddler get out of sight so she isn't killed for her weakness.
    After the speech, we are told to run all the way to the arena. I plan on stealing an eraser first, and I'm forced to tell C my plan. Once all of us jump down from a building, I can see the room that holds an eraser. A tall, broad man in his thirties or forties is guarding it. I manage to slip...

ineffable


writing can't be stopped, only postponed. place a lid over its beauty, and it finds a way push it away, or better, climb around it, breaking boundaries in its chaos. it pounds out an ear-splitting rhythm, like a a runaway train desperately trying to find home. that simile isn't completely mine, but the best things in life are copied over and over until they separate themselves from the origin. they abandon their source, but the core of their spirit will always emit the same color light, pulsing into the universe until it all goes dark.

The Art of Capture


I write poetry greedily,
snatching at words to describe thoughts to describe feelings to describe me.
Hope and despair collapse in a pile of letters,
confusion, and memories.

I read old work hungrily,
picking up each timestamp with care, removing the cobwebs and tearstains.
Suddenly they are no longer the next best thing,
they are merely remembered.

I live life desperately,
turning pictures into movies and slowing down each moment to replay in the darkness.
My heart spills out and plants a garden so bright,
the sun leans down and smiles.

inverse


eyes blinking sleepily / poet speaking through tinny smartphone speakers / blanket on / off / on / off / i knew i should have worn shorts today / new jeans aren't worth the heat
hard plastic taped to my chest / i said it couldn't be worse than mic tape / but plays end / this small square of technology / remains
watching the clock / unsure of what i am waiting for / a story / or a life / what is the world doing right now what is it that am i missing
usually my turquoise walls seem bright / blinding in their fervor / but today they are washed out / blurry / faded memories tied to childhood decisions / that i can't undo / real life doesn't have retakes
everyone hates this year / but middle school was worse for me / and i've grown since then / healing and sickness / fear and...

reasons not to love you | poetic noise (SEE MESSAGE BOARD)


i tell myself i should stop
it's true
but those thoughts bounce around my head
and my heart doesn't get the message

reminders of impossibility
fly around like runaway snowflakes
making it hard to see
but once they land and settle down
the warmth of my heart melts them away

i can't remember why
this is wrong
distance and commitments
become little more than static
buzzing and screaming until all i can hear
is you

your voice


confidence
mischief
a quiet power

humor
wisdom
an autumn breeze

life
hope
an unforgettable calm

faith
strength
a memory of growth

Keep Your Head Up


When I was a child, I used to stand on the edge of the beach,
fixing my eyes on the waves at end of my vision.
The tide would lap over my bare toes, and I'd giggle and shriek
as the shifting sand brought the illusion of movement.

I suppose my youthful memories can serve as a reminder,
a lesson in the form of a joyous metaphor.

When the ground seems to fall away,
and hope is being swept so far out of reach,
keep your thoughts on the road ahead of you,
but learn to find the laughter in the midst of the madness.

As Hope Flies


    Suddenly, all of the pressure from the past three months surged up from my heart into my throat, and it was far too much to bear. I threw open my dorm room door and sped down the deserted hallway as quickly as I could without causing a ruckus.
    As I left the building and stepped out into the evening air, I broke out into a run, mumbling to a campus security guy that I was just getting some exercise. It must've come out fairly jumbled due to the desperation clogging my vocal chords. Still, he didn't question me as I flew across the courtyard.
    Out of nowhere, I heard someone shouting.
    "Hey, you!"
    I glanced over my shoulder to see a man around my age with long black hair trying to get my attention. I didn't want to be rude, but I couldn't trust myself not to burst into tears...

first dances, first romances


it's my school, my gym, but it's different;
full of laser lights, artificial smoke, and students i don't know.
they come from other schools,
(real middle schools, not like our k-8 wannabe)
and they know how to dance with boys.

my only friend here got sick, and
my brother is in the middle of a small crowd
impressing them with dance moves i didn't know he had.

so i am alone, trying not to seem out of place,
yet hoping someone will notice the girl
with colorful hair extensions
and a hand-me-down sequinned dress
that makes me feel like someone else.

perhaps that's why i surprise myself by saying yes
when a mysterious girl asks if i want to dance with a boy.
she pairs me up with a blushing kid with rough hands,
and i wonder why i like it.

the night whirls by, filled with
dances by matchmakers,
and two boys request a second dance.

i'm pulled through the...

Gratitude | 250+ FOLLOWERS PIECE


girl looks on in surprise / heart swelling / so many far-away lovelies / coming to her support / a battalion / of messy dreamers / bearing flags of chaotic kindness / girl smiles / girl cries / girl loves

Come to me, all of you who are weary


"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."

I see you and your aching heart,
and it breaks mine.
If only you would lift those tired eyes,
place your aching hands on my welcoming arms,
and rest.

There is hope when you fix your eyes
on my strength instead of yours.
I know this life has broken you.
But let me take the burden off of your shoulders;
there is so much I could carry for you.

It's alright that you cannot stand on your own.
That is the very reason I came.
Let my love conquer the rising fear
that I see you drowning in.
I can give you perfect peace.

You Are Lovely


Darling, you are lovely.
Every curve and bone,
Each imperfection and inconsistency.
A voice too loud or eyes too bland;
Heart so big and scars on display;
All are blessedly beautiful.

“Take Off Your Shoes, This is My House”

Fireproof


"The sky kept falling but we
d a n c e d
in it"


Hearts fly beneath clouds ablaze
Precious tears breaking through chaos
Pain sharpens its blade
But hope bursts out of love's sweet song

A super freaking old poem because I felt like posting something dead


For whatever reason
My world has been especially full of you

I breathe in your name
And exhale bittersweet starlight

I find momentary solace in your picture
And sight when it's not enough

I'm flying through fog
Bracing for the crash landing

Entertaining foolish hopes
That you'll catch me instead of just watching me
Fall

Dust Jacket

Me in Threes

 

  1. Three communities to which you belong (these can be unusual).
    • Family of Christ
    • Theatre community
    • Write the World
  2. Three places you learn well (these can be unusual).
    • Somewhere up high, where I can "perch"
    • In one of the hanging cocoon-like porch swings on my porch
    • An interactive, friendly environment
  3. Three adjectives your peers would use to describe you.
    • Kind
    • Smart
    • Quirky (sOrRy for using that cliche word, but I can't read my peers' minds, and that's the best word I could think of)
  4. Three adjectives your family would use.
    • Smart
    • Hard-working
    • Sensitive
  5. Three adjectives you would use.
    • Empathetic/empathic
    • Oxymoronic
    • Hard-working
  6. Three beliefs you hold.
    • Jesus is LORD (Yahweh)
    • Love can change the world
    • Tuck Everlasting (the musical) is better than Hamilton ;P
  7. Three sources of comfort.
    • Prayer/worship
    • Music
    • Friends (including furry friends)
  8. Three instincts that serve you well.
    • I can often tell if a person is genuine
    • I'm sometimes able to sense people's emotions
    • Those two instincts pretty much sum everything up
  9. ...

how to be dependent


1. i've never left anything for good. each time i step into something new, pieces of familiarity follow. i don't know if that's a good thing. a security blanket is comfortable until you're faced with the truth of how much you need it.

2. distance is impossible, seeing as how he thinks he needs me. in reality, speech dissolves without him. his wild words and incompatibility with stillness that make me roll my eyes tend to make conversations roll out like play-doh. who wouldn't want to hang out with the personification of an abstract painting? (so full of color and life)

3. i remember when we hated each other. jealousy burned down bridges with flashes of insecurity, and worlds systematically fell apart. together... not... together... not... together...

oh, her? that's alex's sister.

4. we've rebuilt our castles, (or rather, castle; we share the same foundation), but synchronicity weathers my bones. i was researching colleges yesterday, and i found myself glad that...

Bidwell Academy - a dream I had last night


    I'm at school. I think it's a Write the World school, or at least it's run by the same admins. It's a boarding school at the Bidwell Mansion.
    Alya and Miles from the show Backstage are there, and so is Dmoral. Dmoral and I are both freshmen for some reason.
    It's time for each grade to pick a class president. Dmoral is the only one running for 9th grade.
    Suddenly, she gets extremely sick. The admins tell me that I must run in her place. They don't care how sick she is. I refuse to run for president while Dmoral's horrible illness is being swept under the rug.
    She is lying on her back on a bed, with her legs hanging of the edge and get feet on the ground. She has become quite pale and is almost completely still.
    I run into the other room and tell...

everything always seems better when it's out of reach


sovereign songseams slip into sight
following fighters who forget the fight
dancing dreamers dare darkness and defy
wailing works in the wondering why
canons call to carve out cries
leaving love leaves no lies

Late Summer Beauties


Sunlight whispers past umbrella
Breeze carries bird calls and adventure
Breath draws in unhindered hope
Foot taps and bounces casually
Love seeps through all creation
Heart lives at peace

Float


Freeze a bubble in time
and tell me what color it is.
Which way did it fly?

Sing for the light of a heart's burn
heartburn
untill the sky caves in again.

life comes forth


sky drips into petals
heart blooms into gold
moonlight sighs and settles
wonder to behold

Ashen


There is smoke in the sky
And ash on the streets.
I scoop some onto my hand.
It looks like shadows of pine needles,
Memories of what once was.
I let it slip through my fingers,
Turning into ghostly dust;
Forgotten.

futile regret


i don't usually face these parts of me
because wondering is pointless
but trivial fantasies are breath for a poet's gasping lungs

sometimes i wonder if i shouldn't have let you go
i mean you weren't mine to begin with
you have a girlfriend
and you've moved off to college

it's just that i've always been told
to keep mental notes of what i want in a partner
and i don't know you that well
but so far you've checked off every box

so, so kind
you make me laugh with spirit instead of salt
full of strength in mind as well as heart
and you love the Lord unwaveringly

one year of indifferently watching
and another spent a little closer
this year you're farther than ever
and now is when i realize how much that matters
to me

Toxic Aftermath


The air is thick,
Like hot days spent swimming,
But there's nothing joyful about smoke.

The sky is gray,
Like a silver lining,
But it's dull and opaque and suffocating.

The world is yellow,
Like an old photograph,
But I don't want to look at it anymore.

discarded hoofprints


    scooping up neglected memories from a corner of my mind / "horse crazy" emblazoned on every laugh and sigh / we were the trio of girls / breyer models and dream horses / all we needed for a lifetime of fun
    
they both got to live part of their dream / taking lessons and having horses of their own / i resign myself to posters of my daydreams / and books on my shelf / although i slowly remove even those / their rooms are bare / for they have the real thing / ashamed of my girlish wishes / i keep them to myself / but why is my favorite animal a childish thing

Of Birds, Brothers, and Myrtle Trees


I saw a bird,
my brother says,
and I hear the front door shut.

I watch him out my window
as he fiddles with settings on his camera.
He aims it at our small crape myrtle tree.

I cannot see the flying creature he wants to capture,
but I am amazed at the vibrant purple flowers
bursting with life in this little world of gray and green.

That's the tree of my life,
I think, as I settle back onto my bed.
We watched the musical Queen Esther
a few days ago.
I was reminded that her Hebrew name is Hadassah,
a name that I adore.
It means myrtle, and it belongs to
one of my favorite characters as well as the ancient queen.

My brother races into my room
to show me photos of a bee that posed for his camera.
I resist the urge to joke about the birds and the bees
and decide I am content with...

Snack Decisions


I eat a few cashews,
downing salty nuttiness
with pleasure.
Now, slices of pear are delivered by my mother.
They are delicious and fresh,
crisp delicacies on my tongue and under my teeth,
and cashews don't delight me as much anymore.

unforeseen collisions are far too severe


there you are    at the end of the table    laughing with people i don't know

everything shuts down
    hands trembling     heart fluttering
                            but there's nothing whimsical about it

i back out of the restaurant and try desperately not to cry
    my chest is so tight that i've forgotten how to breathe

my foolish heart didn't expect to see you here
but just because our friendship shattered
    doesn't mean i won't find pieces of it in her smile

she says that you're her new best friend
and i think it's reassurance that you've moved on
    and i thought i did too    (i didn't)

throughout the evening, my heartbeat slows down
    there are times when it's almost normal
    our fragile union floats on a temporary hope

but your jokes grate on my heart
i can't figure out if you've changed    or if my mom was right all along

i never knew where you finished and...

Writing Streak Challenge - Week 8

Challenge Completed


Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1 - Submerged

    You're in the grocery store. You're in the grocery store, and it's underwater. Nobody finds this abnormal, in fact, everything you experience seems absolutely, completely natural. And that's why it's so unsettling. You get the feeling that you should be confused by the fact that you're buying fruit at the bottom of the ocean, but the only thing that you can pinpoint as being unusual is that your favorite brand of bananas is no longer available.
    You walk through the aisles and wave at your crush, who's laughing uncontrollably while staring at a jar of pickles; the sweet kind. He doesn't like pickles. Suddenly, you slip and fall, and the last thing you see before you hit the ground is a "wet floor" sign. It doesn't even register that you're underwater, so there doesn't need to be a warning about the floor.
    When you open your eyes, you...

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 5 - Abducted


You are in an Applebee's when the aliens attack. Well, attack is a loose term. The hot pink, spork-headed creatures march into the restaurant, screeching unintelligibly. It's quite worrisome. Some people seem to be annoyed, thinking it to be a Scooby Doo style prank. However, it's unlikely that there are that many mischievous people over 6'8" in the small town of 2000. And where on Earth would they get those hideous costumes? You're startled out of your musing as one of the aliens walks up to you and zaps you, knocking you unconscious. You wake up in a replica of your bedroom, only, it seems to be flying. Did they bring my whole house up into their spaceship?? You desperately try to wake up, but nothing seems to be working... Oh no.

Mom Mode and one of my food-based relationships


I'm kinda like an off-duty mom in my friend groups. So, a lot of the time I'm a normal friend who doesn't really have a designated role, but as soon as somebody has a stomach ache or is sad or something, I go into full on Mom Mode.

My school is weird, so one day I didn't have a designated time for lunch since I was going straight from an on-site college class to a short study hall, and then my next class. So in study hall I was eating some almonds, when this guy I've barely even seen before just goes "...are those almonds?" in the most hopeful voice and it was so adorable. So naturally, my Mom Mode was activated, and I fed him.

Cut to the next day, when he's exiting the classroom I'm about to enter.
"Got any almonds?" *smirk*
*I roll my eyes*

Next time he came out of class, I stuffed almonds into his...

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 4 - Ghost Watches a Chill


    In a car with the windows rolled down, a teen girl in edgy clothes explains that they're about to do what she calls a "chill". She points out a piece of paper that a girl you instinctively know is a newbie is holding, explaining the importance of sound. The new girl asks if she needs to hold on and is answered in the affirmative with a solemn nod and a smirk.
    "Yes."
    Once the edgy girl has sped the car into breakneck speed, she says "Now!" and the new girl rustles the paper wildly. The edgy girl spins the car into a donut, and the wind starts to scream. The entire world becomes a blurry vortex of sound and soundlessness, and the breath is taken from their lungs.

contact


clutching my phone close to my chest / wishing an embrace could travel through a screen / words tumble clumsily through lips and fingertips / but connection will never crumble / when love shouts and thoughts dissolve / two hearts collide / pictures speak volumes / but nothing is louder than the vulnerability of a touch

Summing up the difference between the two science teachers I've had in high school


"Never inhale chemicals. Waft the scent towards your face."
My brother and I have turned this into a meme that we quote every time we smell anything ever.

"Don't inhale; this is toxic."
The last quote was paraphrased. This is word for word what she said during an experiment. Spoiler alert: Nobody died.

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 3 - Prisoners Dancing


    Your entire nation is enslaved. The country that defeated you has taken some of the youths to train as dancers. Each person is assigned a character to embody in each dance. The role you are given is that of Mulan. You watch as a boy around your age is given the role of Li Shang.
    The scene shifts to a dance studio. You are terrified, because you have never had a talent for dancing. If anyone gossips, speaks out of turn, or fails to dance well enough, it is made clear that they will be severely punished. What is much less apparent is what that punishment entails, be it imprisonment, execution, or something else entirely.
    Your dance group's instructor says that she prefers a mediocre dancer that works hard to a lazy yet talented dancer. This is a comfort to you, and you whisper your relief to the girl next to you, telling her that you...

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 2 - The Duck-Footed Dash


    Something is chasing you. You run as quickly as you can, cursing your short legs and webbed feet. Wait a second - webbed feet? That's odd. But there's no time to contemplate your extremities as you dodge a seagull and race through the sand. Your feet keep getting in each other's way, but you do the best you can.
    I have to get to the water. Just make it to the water. You don't know why that thought pops into your head, but it feels right. Trusting your confusing instincts, you make your way through the crowd of anthropomorphic dogs playing in the tide pools, feet splashing.
    The thing behind you is getting closer and closer. You can't figure out how you know that, as the thing makes no noise while it gains ground. Just when you think you'll never escape, the water reaches the top of your head, and everything goes dark.

oh, to be a teen


    rambling on white, white screens / striving for excellence / to be something, something / no pen or paper / merely electronic expectations, expectations / desperate to stand out / but falling, falling into line / grasping at individuality
    yet wishing for acceptance, acceptance from the masses / hiding our jagged edges beneath a uniform / wear the wrong face and meet rejection, rejection / we smile through the labeling process / emerging dissatisfied, dissatisfied / back to wanting more

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1 - Submerged


    You're in the grocery store. You're in the grocery store, and it's underwater. Nobody finds this abnormal, in fact, everything you experience seems absolutely, completely natural. And that's why it's so unsettling. You get the feeling that you should be confused by the fact that you're buying fruit at the bottom of the ocean, but the only thing that you can pinpoint as being unusual is that your favorite brand of bananas is no longer available.
    You walk through the aisles and wave at your crush, who's laughing uncontrollably while staring at a jar of pickles; the sweet kind. He doesn't like pickles. Suddenly, you slip and fall, and the last thing you see before you hit the ground is a "wet floor" sign. It doesn't even register that you're underwater, so there doesn't need to be a warning about the floor.
    When you open your eyes, you find yourself back in your own bed. Sighing in relief,...

childlike


i was mistaken for a twelve year old again; nothing changed when the years passed; i still look the same to outside eyes; this is when i hate my body the most; hate is the wrong word; i am ashamed; skinny guys are just skinny; i barely look like a woman; beauty is subjective; age is not

To Those from My Past



Tell me, what does it feel like
To sit atop the countless hearts laid at your feet?
Insecurities fill your eyes
Even as we marvel at their depth and shine.

Hope after dream after plea
Passed from one pair of trembling hands to another.
We never meant to do this;
To have you bear the weight of unfailing affection.
Those of us who truly loved you
Would never ask of you even half of what you demand of yourself.

Tell me, do you feel powerful
To know that you can alter a piece of our lives?
Or are you too afraid
Of littering your journey with shattered hearts?
We act like you're our lifeline,
But you can't save everyone, and we often wound our hearts alone.
Do not be ashamed.
We are strong enough to move on, even when eternity screams.

third degree agony


the heat burns my skin while i beg it for relief / clutching fire to soothe my pain / i shouldn't choke down so much medicine / but i need it to survive / without groaning out my torment / and i'm grateful / because it could be worse / it has been worse / but after a certain point / pain blinds me / to its future and its past

An Exercise in Self-Love


I can fit my fingers around your wrist with room to spare!
I'd tell you a joke that'd make you laugh your [boobs]* off, but it looks like you already did.
You need to eat a sandwich!
Don't worry, you'll get some curves when you're older.
You look like you eat nothing but lettuce for dinner.
I can see your zits so well from this angle.
You look like a guy in that picture. It's the way you're smiling in it.
Don't wear yoga pants. They don't look good on people like you.



I am beautiful. Whether I have curves or not, if I gain weight someday or if I lose even more. If I'm able to gain muscle or if I stay "skin and bones". Healthy looks different on different people. My beauty is not conditional, and it's not there in spite of the "problems" I supposedly have. Every single part of me is absolutely gorgeous.

I love my...

People You Don't Know (answers in message board)

  • Her classic beauty and flowing, dark hair drew attention from everyone she passed, but it was her bubbling laugh that invited them to stay.
  • She had golden brown eyes constantly peering around chestnut hair and lighting in a secret smile.
  • His red curls and slender frame seemed unremarkable at first glance, but he possessed a spark of something unexplainably wonderful that no one could deny.
  • He had dark hair and tanned skin of unapparent origin, but the thing that drew attention was his never-still form and unabashed personality.
  • With a petite form, her Snow White complexion was prone to being quite literally overlooked. However, a second glance would banish the word "common" from every mind.
  • His hair was so dark it might have been black, and he wore thick glasses that gave him a quiet, insightful sort of quality.

Lightwave


I wish to touch everyone I meet. I want to create a ripple effect pulsing from my heart and dissolving a piece of each person's shell. A whisper of soul peeks out from between fragments of history, stitching a patchwork of stories onto my cloak. Let everyone leave me with an ember of joy pointing to the Source of my shine.

Time Slows Inside Eyes of Fantasy


You know that moment when you lock eyes with someone and think "What if we could happen?" And the world focuses in on that moment of silent dynasties rising and falling before your eyes. You beg the sky to speak to that person in the way it shone a spotlight into their smile. It opens up boundaries to telling yourself you're not in love yet hoping someday you could be. And then it ends. You let out the breath you were holding and try to capture its hope in ink sketches upon twisted wrists. Maybe the waves of time will sweep these dreams into nothing but memory, like glass trinkets shattered in front of a fireplace. After all, fate is an indifferent master, frowning on some dreamers in favor of others. But maybe this time it laughs.

Crying Beneath the Eiffel Tower


Slipping self-deprecation under my tongue in humility's cloak
Heart puddled beneath the metal cage towering above me like goals procrastinated on for decades
Throwing spite into the water; golden and unafraid
Happiness is merely a reflection of trying too hard to be something real
If my name ever lights up the night sky, just know that it doesn't belong to me
It is a facade someone else has created to lure other hopefuls into the shadow of its glow
Join me in regret of a future I can never achieve

conflict combustion


my brother explodes when he is angry / shouts of teenage offense / spewing out of his mouth / he's always had a flair for the dramatic
but i melt / or rather / bleed / incoherent defenses / escaping from tear-soaked lips / heart of daisies / with wilted petals running through my veins

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

Together In Insanity


    There's a commotion behind me as someone trips over a case of water bottles.
    "Move it!" Blue-clad soldiers push him into line next to me.
    He looks up, and I startle at my best friend's face. No. He's supposed to be home with his family.
    "Ronan! I thought you'd be safe from this!"
    His voice is ragged with fear as he replies, "We just wanted to buy some bread..."
    A soldier shoves him violently into me, silencing us. Once he passes, I grab Ronan's hand, silently promising I'll stay. Even when all hell breaks loose.

passion primal


and it's the halfway points, the gray smudges of chaotic fervor, that confuse me the most. i'm full of thought that goes nowhere but an incomplete overflow of the heart, and i don't know how i'm supposed to use it. there's no name to this overwhelming force of burn and blindness. it's impossible to pin down emotion as it flies around my body, and it leaves behind a beautiful disaster for me to pick up after; a paint-splattered effigy of me.

Feather Bias


If ravens could sing, would we love them more?
Or do dark feathers condemn even when voices soar?
Can two-legged judges assess those in the sky?
Or should winged ones be freed to shout and fly?

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

Together In Insanity


There's a commotion behind me as someone trips over a case of water bottles.
"Move it!" Blue-clad soldiers push him into the line next to me.
As he looks up, I startle at the face of my best friend. No. He was supposed to be at home with his family.
"Ronan! I thought you'd be safe from this!"
His breath is ragged with fear as he replies, "We just wanted to buy some bread..."
A soldier backhands him across the face. Once he passes, I grab Ronan's hand, silently promising I'd stay. Even when all hell breaks loose.

our addiction was backwards, wasn't it?


'i forgive you' feels too formal \ so we say 'it's okay' \ padding over hurt \ with soft sweet cinders \ not a flame in sight \ just remnants of this burn
'i love you' means partnership \ so we say 'i need you' \ desperation in place of beauty \ we've always been swings from different sets \ trying to match up with another's insanity
'don't leave me' shows vulnerability \ so we say 'goodbye' \ fading out of untrained togetherness \ like characters going back to our own stories \ it feels odd to miss synchronicity \ when it was never there

Transplanted Heart (THANK YOU IN MESSAGE BOARD)


Small country towns are meant to raise you
Witnessing muddy feet and first dates
People sing about hearts growing up united

I only hope there's a place for a suburban girl
My hometown is different, but it's still small
Save me a corner of the southern skies

Astonishing


I've never been naturally humble.
Yes, you'll see me blush over compliments
And beam at the success of those I love.

But some days I want to be more...
I look at the stars littered across the sky.
Each of them shines their own beauty,
Yet sometimes I wish I was the inimitable moon.

In talent and charm, I once thought I was exceptional.
Childish mind stuffed with praise,
I dreamed of stages and brilliant lights.

I feel so much wiser now, though I'm still young.
As Amy March says, "I am of middling talent."
Better than some, but that's never enough;
Passion and hope don't equate with genius.

I try to be content with confusion;
Live my life for others in the ways I can.
But I think I'll hold onto my selfish wish.
I won't chase it or let it get in anyone's way,
I'll just keep it in my pocket and the light in my eyes.

Day's End


I walk out the front door in the darkness of the night. There's a shard of anxiety trying to worm its way into this moment, but I do my best to dull the edges. Standing at the end of the cul de sac, I close my eyes and root myself in the feeling of my feet on the road and the stillness in the air.
It's quiet, yet I can still hear so many sounds milling about the space, passing each other in a ballet of the night. Distant cars rush on, but their roar seems hushed too, like even they know to be respectful of the silence.
I suppress a shudder as words like fear and phobia fiercely pound at the door of my heart. But I manage to contain their intrusive presence to a sliver of worry lurking in the corner.
On a whim, I hop up on the trunk of my dad's car. It's not as easy...

even blood cannot compare to this


unyielding porcelain is my only witness
as i Wither inaudibly
unable to even scream
fading in and out of belief
in my Strength to stay conscious
stomach yanking itself into my throat
trying to expel what isn't there

lying on the floor near the sink
medicines are another hope
always consumed by this Pain
unforgiving and unrelenting
there is no relief from sweat or cries
hours of distress from the Burn in me

night fall


chest stretched tightly over a pounding heart / i wish i could enjoy this book that i should love / the silence used to be silver / now it is just gray / there is nothing to be afraid of / but still i am / afraid / i long to dance in darkness once more / but i am locked inside my mind

falling out of hate


sometimes we pretend people are evil. because when we look at them as real, broken people... we can't hate them anymore. and when you don't hate them, they can hurt you twice as much. they're not cruel. in fact, they're hard-working, selfless, loving people. why is it that the people who try the hardest always fall the furthest? and when they're falling, they grab onto the people they pass on the way down, and then you're all falling and desperately trying to reach for a handhold. but the only thing we can keep ahold of is each other. so you're clinging to each other while the world falls apart, but instead of helping, all it does is yank them further down with you.

Nyctophobia?


How did I fall out of love with the night?
Things aren't supposed to change that quickly,
But evening went from being a build up to peace
To anxiety reaching its claws into my solitude.
I used to gaze up at stars or my bedroom ceiling.
Now my heart pounds with every second.
There's nothing to explain this immediate shift,
And I wish I didn't have to spend the dark hours
Using earbuds to try to drown out insanity.

Not a (feminist) rant - READ MESSAGE BOARD

Okay. I don't generally align myself with the label "feminist", and I'm not going to really go into the details why not. But there's been something bothering me ever since I wrote the piece "Why do people think that skinny girls don't need comfort?" This discomfort was brought to mind when I was reading a book yesterday. It's a wonderful book with a great message, but something about this one part was somewhat upsetting.
The main character meets a thin girl, and she says to herself that the girl "looked as though she frequently dined on ice cubes and lettuce leaves." While this line is fairly funny, I couldn't ignore the thought plaguing my mind: Is that what people think about me? So many people are under the impression that skinny girls are completely secure in their body image, but it's just not true.
Another thing I noticed was the crazy lack of tips and tricks for thin girls. This seems like...

live now


i'm not asking you for a whirlwind romance.
we don't need to be a hollywood couple, just the thick and thin kind.
let me erase the past out of your eyes. haven't you noticed how beautiful optimism looks on you?
this isn't me telling you to hide your feelings.
but can you blame me for wanting to see your hope light up the room?
you're defined by this moment here. step into my arms and just be.
i know you're afraid. but trust me just this once, and i promise i'll be there to catch you.

No, you may not come in.


And if I think of you, it will be an afterthought; a footnote in the pages of my life. You think you have blotted out the best of my lines and set fire to my heart. But the journey I once thought would fill chapters is no longer a plot arc I wish to write into completion. I think I shall end this story and put it back on the shelf. I considered tearing your words to pieces in the same way you told me I was meaningless, but I want to remember this moment as one where you could no longer control me. If I scream, it will not be in anger. No, I will shout up to the heavens how I survived the sickening writer's block you thrust into my mind like a hideous plague. So pardon me for stopping you at the door of my inspiration, but I have no time to waste on you anymore. You...

you gave me half of a heart necklace


it's been years since i got over you / but one line and everything comes flooding back / remember the necklace you gave me / it's gone / just like the ring and the love / i think friend breakups are the worst kind / not that i have anything to compare it to / we were always together / no one understood me like you did / and maybe that's cliche / and maybe that's because we're all living parallel heartbreaks / butterfly wings reminding us / that our pain is not unique / but it is special / it took distance to recognize / the product of our closeness / i became an extension of you / we were two halves of a heart / don't you see the irony of our broken bff charms / both of us stood on the other's pedestal / and even now that i know that / i still miss / dancing...

Writing Streak Challenge - Week 2

Challenge Completed


Writing Streak Week 2 Day 1 - moonsoft

moonsoft is the color of anticipation. it's looking up at the sky while still inside your room, squinting past the glare of the streetlights'; searching for the lunar glow to remind you that it's okay to be quiet now. it paints life into hoping for something real and tangible yet coming away with nothing but colors and light. it doesn't judge you for staying still for a time. it's the wisdom in wondering and waiting; it's silence and the beauty of wanderlust when the night is still.

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 2 - wistessence

wistessence is the essence of wistfulness. slipping into conversations about the past and inspiring a craving for the future, it is heartache in the most unassuming way. it doesn't hit like a car accident or runaway wildebeest herd. no, it paints itself all over the quiet memories. this is the color of a sharp breath inwards as you...

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 5 - seafly


seafly is the color of hope, effervescent and free. it is borne of despair and floats up into the sky, weightless. acknowledging the darkness without dwelling in it; remembering to chase the ever-fleeting rays of the sun. it doesn't paint over the sadness but instead brings it a whisper of joy and a passion to get back up again.

loving you is impossible, but that never stopped you, did it?


i wish i was strong enough to help you. my whole life, you've been the rock that never shattered. the more that happened to you, it somehow only proved what you could do. never wanting help, you expected all of us to be as unbreakable as you. and now i think your barricade is falling, and it's like there's nothing i can do about it. i'm weaker than ever, and you don't blame me, but you still need me. we're trying so hard to help you, but we always mess things up. and now i might be losing you, and there's no way for me to hold on. because you've always been the strong one. i know that's ridiculous, and you always just had a higher pain tolerance, but you've been unintentionally breaking me down all this time, even as you've been loving me so hard. and now that you need me, i'm not here. it's all that i can...

the potential i can't reach


usually i can hang in there
i'm smacked down time after time
later i'll be fine but right now
right now i'm just trying to breathe
i realize how moody teen this sounds
and maybe that's what i am
all that i know is in this moment
i am not okay

Mealtime With a Crazy Cat Lady


On Daisy, on Archibald, on Muffin and Sammy!
Here, kitty kitty, come to grammy.
Here Duke! Sophie, get down from that tree!
My darling cats, come inside to me.
Fifi, leave your mouse at the door,
Rufus and Lia, you know you want more.
It's dinner time now; din din, hon!
Walk this way, no, don't you dare run.
Aspen, Patriot, where have you gone?
You always leave from dusk until dawn.
Tigger, you rascal, you brought home a mate!
Well, just as long as you don't stay out late.
Alright, I think that's everyone now.
It's a miracle I've memorized your names. Meow!

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 4 - communigration


communigration is the color of a long drive in a car full of people, purses, and pillows. follow it to wrinkled t-shirts and open windows. take hold of its vibrance as it floats through the laughter, wrong turns, and sleepy smiles that travel through the dust of friendship.

Painted Nostalgia


Feet painted black from running barefoot in the street
Grass stains on the knees of worn out blue jeans
Berry juice on hands that belonged to a "gardener" or "chef" 
Dusty bottoms from sitting on picnic tables and slides
The memories of my childhood in multicolor glee

scattered heart


you're my favorite memory.
i'm not even sure who that line is for;
every time i reread it my mind is changed.
maybe it just sounded pretty,
but i'd like to think i write from emotion
and not random whims.

i don't think i have favorites;
i love too hard for that.

if i could pick one day to relive,
i'd end up spending it in indecision.
i spend hours scrolling through pictures,
songs, and audio recordings
from yesterday's passions.

maybe i spend too much time in the past,
but that's not exactly true,
because i've enough worries for the future
to fill up the old toys r us that closed years ago.

i think i'd like to live in the present.
ambedo and contentment;
two feet planted in the light of today.

i don't really know where this poem is about.
dreaming and loving and something i can't decide?
or is it merely the confused rambling
of a cotton...

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 3 - musentity


musentity is the color of inspiration. it's a fleeting thing, translucent and full of intangible things. when you hold it, be gentle, or it will dissolve like cotton candy on your tongue. taste it, feel it, become it. always be looking for its beauty; it colors itself outside the lines. find it in the corner of your room, covered in dust and candy wrappers, or in the feeling of magic drifting in on the wind.

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Noelle and I


Dear Noelle,

    It's funny, if you ever saw this, you'd know it was for you. And not just because I've changed your name to Noelle in my personal narratives for English class. But because you've always been a different kind of friend.
    You were the friend that was the best without acting like you were better. We survived childish disputes, distance, and pain I shouldn't have burdened you with. You were the friend that was alright with just walking around the playground or playing hand-clapping games under the slide. We could spend entire evenings together waiting for a cast list or eating your mom's latest masterpiece of baking. You were girlier than me, but I taught myself how to love fairies and Fancy Nancy picture books because you did. And that was okay.
    But we don't talk anymore. This isn't a Charlie Puth song, but I guess he had to be inspired by real life, too. I wonder if he...

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 2 - wistessence


wistessence is the essence of wistfulness. slipping into conversations about the past and inspiring a craving for the future, it is heartache in the most unassuming way. it doesn't hit like a car accident or runaway wildebeest herd. no, it paints itself all over the quiet memories. this is the color of a sharp breath inwards as you wish for more while telling yourself it's impossible. but wistessence tells you that maybe you should try anyway; leap out of the nest and join your daydreams in the sky.

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Noelle and I


Dear Noelle,

    It's funny, if you ever saw this, you'd know it was for you. And not just because I've changed your name to Noelle for personal narratives in English class. But because you've always been a different kind of friend.
    You were the friend that was the best without acting like you were better. We survived childish disputes, distance, and pain I shouldn't have burdened you with. You were the friend that was alright with just walking around the playground or playing hand-clapping games under the swing set. We could spend entire evenings together waiting for a cast list or eating your mom's latest masterpiece of baking. You were girlier than me, but I taught myself how to love fairies and Fancy Nancy picture books because you did. And that was okay.
    But we don't talk anymore. This isn't a Charlie Puth song, but I guess he had to be inspired by real life, too. I wonder if he...

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 1 - moonsoft


moonsoft is the color of anticipation. it's looking up at the sky while still inside your room, squinting past the glare of the streetlights'; searching for the lunar glow to remind you that it's okay to be quiet now. it paints life into hoping for something real and tangible yet coming away with nothing but colors and light. it doesn't judge you for staying still for a time. it's the wisdom in wondering and waiting; it's silence and the beauty of wanderlust when the night is still.

of frenzy and faith


the world is ending in september and nobody cares.
dreams of burning set my heart ablaze,
and i don't think it's quite set in yet.

we have a secret stash of non-perishables;
we've never been the type to fear doom and destruction,
but can anyone really blame us?

fiery red and dark blue and yellow.
colors blinding me to the point of despair.
i'm highlighting and taking notes in a subdued furor.

i know i sound crazy, but i can't stay still.
i am afraid, but my faith is strong.
when the coins run out, i will stand with the truth.

which do i follow?


i've followed my heart all over these towns / second-grade playgrounds / friends' backyards / blanket forts / libraries full of paper-bound adventures / i can see it reflected in / the lake next to my school / and so many sparkling eyes
most people have to search / for the place their heart can rest / but i find mine everywhere / fragments of my love / strung together with sunshine and elmer's glue /
people have trouble / with my love-too-much-too-long / it's hard to move on / when each memory holds an essence of me / i think that's why i've never completely fit into one place / i'm scattered throughout the chapters of my life / save some space for my future

the letter i didn't write


dear "you"

    getting over you (yes, you) has been a hard road to walk on. i've only ever achieved something like this by throwing myself into another crush, but right now, i just need rest. (ironic, isn't it?) and when friends are involved... it's more than a crush. exposing myself to your imperfections only made me love you more. and i still love you. a disappearing romance can't change friendship. the difference is, i'm no longer in love with you.
    it took seeing your face today to realize that. because i can tell myself i'm over you all i want, but only this could show me that the infamous butterflies have left the chrysalis i formed around heart. they're free now.
    and i'm not perfect. my feelings didn't change overnight (well, they sort of did, but that doesn't help my case), so it might take a while to return them to their untouched nature. but i'll keep scrubbing away...

My dear seasons, I have neglected you


I've always been a girl of bright spring mornings
One for twining flowers around my glasses
And breathing the scent of expectance in from the breeze

But there's something so poetic about winter rain
I long to be the girl who laughs up at dark clouds
Instead of merely hiding from the cold and chaos

Autumn has a way of slipping by without my noticing
California procrastinates fallen leaves and brisk air
I still wish to step into the season of haste

And everyone has written about summer daydreams
The sun has a way of bringing out tranquil wonder
Too often I hide from the simmer and burn

art in obscurity


one canvas dripping in talent / and the next splattered with a five-year-old's fantasies / discovering your new favorite song as it plays through tinny supermarket speakers / rereading the book that touched your third-grade heart in a way you can't define / the peeling horse decals that are too full of nostalgia to remove from your walls / an inconsequential moment when you stop and realize you're making memories / a subtle quirk in a friend that makes the words "i love you" reverb in your mind / fourteen tabs open because they all serve a purpose / overthinking what you saw in a stranger's eyes / the anklet that's too loose but you wear as a reminder of that night / stuffed animals that are neglected but never unloved / laughing with a friend for no reason other than you've both had too much ice cream / drawing smiley faces on the corners of a napkin / the...

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 1 : Five Physical Features of Me

Five Physical Features of Me
 
  1. Light-skinned.​ Pale Irish overcoat with an undertone containing hidden melanin. Summer tan and winter cream; the best of both worlds.
  2. Thin. Built like a fairy or sprite; slipping through hallways and hugs with an awkward grace accepted into this oxymoron of a girl.
  3. Brown eyes. Neither the ocean blue of my father or my mother's infinite dark chocolate. They are ever-shifting espresso and gold. Peer into their glimmer and read between the gleam.
  4. Brunette. Chestnut pixie cut that likes to borrow rays of the summer sun. Thick strands permanently slipping into those brown eyes.
  5. Anomalous smile. Braces fixed over frequently flashing teeth. Thin lips fashioned into a distinctive curve; effervescent.

Semicolon Soirée

serpentine severity


she is a scorned queen; stronger than her history; discarding past selves like old scraps; she is more akin to a snake shedding sickly skin; hiding in the soft brush; lurking in the silence; saccharine-sweet sabotage; do not step on her spirit; she knows how to strike; seek solace in her flaming eyes; lose your senses in irises of hypnotic gold; she has a heart hardened by sordid solitude; she is a scorned queen.

simple beauties


truffula trees reaching their soft tufts up through your imagination
a blanket cocooning you with the gentle sound of a guitar strumming
the quiet of the night without the darkness
giggles while you twirl in the middle of the schoolyard
the moment you see the person who loves your shadows away
a moment tacked up on the turquoise wall in your bedroom
the splash of a stream hidden in a magnificent wood
puddles reflecting the dawn of a brighter day

Folding your beauties into my heart


I love your bubble wrap laugh, popping into the air so freely.
And the way you wear a jacket and basketball shorts at the same time.
You have campfire eyes, so wild and full of power,
But I know they're made of hard work and nostalgia.
That overexcited heart of yours is full of fireflies;
Who can darken its starlike glow?
Your sun-kissed fingertips are as innocent as a kindergarten painting.
You hate how they stumble over essays and origami,
Even as I save every discarded paper memory.
If we can shed our expectations of grandeur,
We'll be able to surpass it on the wings of faithful resolve.

Challenge Thingerbobber #CharacterQuirks


    So! This might totally crash and burn (which is fine--no pressure to take part), but I had an idea while I was showering (#showerthoughts haha) and thought it was worth a shot. Also, it has my twin's stamp of approval (in case you were wondering) (you weren't').
    Alright, enough stalling. You know how the things that make characters most relatable and people most lovable are the random quirks in their behavior? Just like little mannerisms specific to them that are subtle and insignificant but so adorable because you love that person/character.
    I thought that it would be cool for people to make a list of their own peculiarities and post them. That way, it can both boost self-image and help us all make our characters more unique and multidimensional. Another way you could do this is to write one about your OCs, but I think it could be really good for everyone's mental health to step back and...

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Noelle and I


Dear Noelle,

It's funny, if you ever saw this, you'd know it was for you. And not just because I've written you into being Noelle for personal narratives in English class. But because you've always been a different kind of friend.
You were the friend that was my best without acting like you were better. We survived childish disputes, distance, and pain I shouldn't have burdened you with. You were the friend that was alright with just walking around the playground or playing lemonade under the swing set. We could spend evenings waiting for a cast list or eating your mom's latest masterpiece of baking. You were girlier than me, but I taught myself how to love fairies and Fancy Nancy picture books, because you did. And that was okay.
But we don't talk anymore. This isn't a Charlie Puth song, but I guess he had to be inspired by real life, too. I wonder if he ever lived in...

wish of the skies


my hands clench without my commanding them.
not out of anger, but longing;
a yearning to scoop up dreams out of the soil
in pictures; i can't help but stare.

if my heart is in a place i don't understand,
does that make me a fool?
i am likely naive in believing i can survive
weather, creatures, and
stereotypes of my home.

and leaving sounds like loneliness;
like goodbyes i'm not accustomed to.
but nothing stops this ache
for this something different;
no fear of heights can keep it from flying on.

synergy


my fuchsia daydreams / yours are painted blue / sweating out our differences / hope flies on the august breeze / grab my hand / squeeze / until i look into those sparkling eyes / who wants a boring happily ever after / let's gallop through our troubles / together / cheap photo booths / posters from our memories / relive / no / recreate / the life we danced into existence / i released the butterflies / in my stomach / i like it better this way / without nerves and skeletons / we share the same closet / read our fortunes from 25 cent cookies / laugh them away because / we've already found love / i think we'll be just fine

"Almost 16"


I don't think I really want to turn 16
14 felt too young, 16 holds the weight of the unknown
But 15 is as comfortable as any age can be
I feel like I'm allowed to be naive and romantic
Without the pressure to grow up and be fiercer than I am

I've never felt different after each birthday
Age has always been nothing more than a number
Even when it meant elementary bragging rights of "I'm older than you!"
Some part of me still remembered its insignificance

Nver have I been so unsettled by the future me
I'm sure that I'll look back on myself and laugh
Sweet 16 can still include sweet me
But I'm still 15 and naive, remember?

#CharacterQuirks

  • When I get nervous/uncomfortable, I sometimes tug on my earlobe. I think I picked it up from a character on a TV show I used to watch. Which leads to the next quirk...
  • If I'm around a person a lot, I subconsciously adopt some of their mannerisms, whether it's a catchphrase, a gesture, or just about anything else. That means that my brother and I do a bunch of the same things.
  • It drives me CRAZY when people touch my bath towel, and I refuse to dry my hands on any other towel. I don't have many obsessive germ-avoiding tendencies, but I'm super strict on that one. If someone moves my towel, I know, because I always hang it the same way.
  • One of my biggest pet peeves is people having loose hairs on their clothing. Pet hair is fine, but human hair is so disturbing to me for some reason. I've gotten a lot better at ignoring it, but when people...

"Caught In The Storm" Collection


The following is a series of pieces I've written that are inspired by Antonio Cipriano's cover of Caught In The Storm (as requested by Happy Butterfly).

When you love someone, you never let them stay

Impossibilities

love me until you disappear

you can find me after the flood

let me wash away

Idk


I think I might be taking a mental health break soon... I probably won't end up being able to stay away, but if I disappear for a bit, that's why

Writing Streak Week 14 Day 1


Song: Caught In The Storm from Smash (cover by Antonio Cipriano).

    I don't know anything about Smash, and when I first heard this song, it wasn't the original version. I didn't even know it was written by the legendary Pasek and Paul (Dear Evan Hansen, The Greatest Showman, etc). I just knew that it captured my attention in a way I didn't expect.
    Antonio's incredible voice rises and falls with the enrapturing melody and Tyler Capa skillfully plays the emotive piano accompiaament. But the shining point of this song is the way it makes you feel. Whether you relate to the specific theme of the song not, the lyrics connect to your heart in a way that makes you play it over and over.
    I've spent hours listening to nothing but the raw greatness of this song. I have even created an entire series of pieces of writing using it as inspiration. It allows me to lose myself...

Confused Daughter of the In Between #childofyournation


i think i just realized i'm mixed race / not like most people think / but the middle east isn't really white / is it

my dad boasts his 100% irish heritage / but i've never been there / and i never liked corned beef / ireland is that pretty place / the bragging rights / nothing else / i look like them / but only if you set aside / your redheaded stereotypes

my mom is from israel / no she's not a jew / an arab / she's not muslim either / palestinian hospitality / got a bit lost in translation / what is it like to be welcome anytime / the only thing i understand / is food i never wanted to cook / i'll eat my pita bread in shame

queen of the smokies


butterflies the color of sunlight / whispering through sugar maple leaves / bare feet / with a coating of grass stains and dust / balancing on top of a boulder / a monarch / smiling down at the world / it greets her / its voice is heard / in the raven's call / and the thrumming of the earth

Writing Streak Challenge Week 13

Challenge Completed


Day 1 - quiet suspense

lying covered in blankets
supplements in a ziploc bag beside me
mug, book, laptop, phone
procrastinating lunch
waiting for another useless appointment
hoping this time it will work

Day 2 - Remembering Yesterday

The long drive to chiropractor in *city name*
But apparently he can help me
It turns out that he doesn't focus on your spine
Energy signatures of foods and diseases
I'd think he was nuts if I hadn't experienced
My strength being taken away
He says he can help me
And I just might believe him

Day 3 - paint over my love with accusations until i scream

i know this will not be p o p u l a r
i will be accused of things that make my eyes sting
but not with h a t e
    rather d e s p a i r , look, mom, i am afraid to speak my mind
there is no red hat...

Writing Streak Week 13 Day 5 - diminished


emotional and uninspired
pressed into my mattress
drained with tears threatening
to seal up my throat
for no other reason than
exhaustion and maybe
that time of month
i think i might just
go to bed early tonight

Writing Streak Week 13 Day 4 - and the clock ticks on


sleepy eyes gazing at buzzfeed quizzes
frozen 2 playing through the earbud that works
church t-shirt and leggings cocooning an ordinary girl

Writing Streak Week 13 Day 3 - paint over my love with accusations until i scream


i know this will not be p o p u l a r
i will be accused of things that make my eyes sting
but not with h a t e
    rather d e s p a i r , look, mom, i am afraid to speak my mind
there is no red hat in my home
sometimes i feel ashamed
    but i can't decide what it is i am hiding
he is imperfect, but he has helped
lowest black unemployment but he is    r a c i s t    i am    r a c i s t
this piece won't make it into wednesday words    or     must reads
    because conservatives are bigots
to be s i l e n c e d and f e a r e d

I've been debating if I should do this or not... #appreciationpost


I wasn't going to make one of these, because I love everyone here. No matter how many people I put onto this, I'd still be missing super important and awesome writers. I have a terrible memory in the moment, so if your name doesn't appear here, PLEASE don't take it personally.

My buddies (you already know who you are)

The Campbell's Kid
Yeah, you better bet you're on this list. Such a kind person who always does his best to be considerate of everyone. He's also the reason I'm on this site. Also: His WRITING?? He is super underrated. Go check out his account for kooky characters and poems that punch you in the stomach.

mia_:)
Super sweet with complex emotions (no stereotypes for you) and poems/prose. She and I definitely know how to laugh together, and I am constantly blown away by LITERALLY everything she posts... even on writer's block, she writes better than I can even dream of.
...

book genres (in young adult fiction) as people


fantasy
head in the clouds / with the endurance to make her feet follow / a smile lost in time / summer exploits / dandelion fuzz

dystopian
hard-edged / masked boy / charm emanating from a beating heart / he will protect you / even if you hurt him / shadowed strength

mystery
deep eyes / no one can fully interpret / clever girl / her laughter does not come easily / earn it / and she will memorize / your flame

realistic fiction
mimeomia / selfless and hopeful / break her heart / she will never trust twice / simple afternoons / more profound than she believes

sci-fi
roll up his sleeves and find his heart / spontaneity / edm blasting from the car radio / embarrassed by the volume / of his mind

Writing Streak Week 13 Day 2 - Remembering Yesterday


The long drive to chiropractor in *city name*
But apparently he can help me
It turns out that he doesn't focus on your spine
Energy signatures of foods and diseases
I'd think he was nuts if I hadn't experienced
My strength being taken away
He says he can help me
And I just might believe him

Writing Streak Week 13 Day 1 - quiet suspense


lying covered in blankets
supplements in a ziploc bag beside me
mug, book, laptop, phone
procrastinating lunch
waiting for another useless appointment
hoping this time it will work

taco salad with a side of laughter


inhaling watermelon pulp / while my brother adds caramel to his perrier / in stitches at our dad's attempts to be funny / while our mom eats dinner and smirks / sometimes the forgettable moments / are the ones whistling in my heart /and i think / this is what magic is made of

Waiting for Radiance


I am called to my window to look
Time after time I trust blindly
After several seemingly pointless gazes
My knees go weak beneath me
I lie in my room and realize
Everything I saw was the miracle

I get up once more and peer around curtains
The sun becomes this brilliant thing
It glints off of cars and dew
I marvel at the splendor of light
And feel safe in the One telling it to shine

Stories of the Sea


    I wonder, does the Sea get lonely when the Sun is blocked by clouds? Is she terrified of the Gales sent by the unforgiving Storm? Her thrashing is frenzied as if spurred on by the insatiable urge to escape. The Storm acts like a cruel master, forcing her to fight against Mankind in a battle more brutal than those of the Roman Colosseum.
    But look at this scene with different eyes. Is the Sea scared or merely craving excitement? Perhaps she whispers messages on the Wind to be carried to the Storm, and he listens. He turns Light into Darkness, giving the Sun time to rest and providing the Shadows as a stage for the Sea's dance of joy. She tumbles and rolls, forgetting everything but this moment, her moment.

Next time You look out at the World,
    Do not curse the things you see.
Instead, hear Stories yet unheard,
    And learn to dance upon the Sea.

Heads Up


Hey, jsyk, I unpublished "Writing Streak Week 10 Day 1 - ceaseless", because I submitted it to a poetry competition. If you notice any other pieces disappearing, that's why. Wish me luck! :D

my family from afar


i never knew my grandparents
several of my aunts and uncles have disappeared into history
and i have so many cousins i can't recognize their faces
much less recall their names

i should feel guilty
but it's impossible to miss someone you don't remember
i don't think you can memorize a person from stories and holidays
or the two times you've flown across the seas

you see, both of my parents left their homes
and washington state barely feels closer than israel
when neither family understands you

my mom is the second youngest of ten
some of her siblings didn't even make it to my birth
my dad is the third of four
i face the same problem there

both of them married late
i have cousins who are parents
sometimes i forget who belongs to whom

you can't become close to someone you've only met a few times
thanksgiving isn't enough time to learn
not even a whole summer...

Small Town Girl


I don't want to go to the store
And experience nothing but sonder
Drifting in and out among faces without backstories

I thrive on running into friends at Walmart
And avoiding the chatty lady from church
Singing in Home Depot without crowds to glare

I will always be a girl from a pint-sized community
Who finds skyscrapers a foreign curiosity
And yearns for conversations with the friendly librarian

Even if I could make a life in LA or NYC
I'd feel out of place without grass to root myself in
The city may be full of thrills and wonder
But my heart belongs in the comfort of a small town

what happened to old fashioned heroines?


    why must i be tough and tomboyish, different from other girls? since when did female protagonists have to lose their romanticized daydreams in favor of a self-sufficient attitude? i'm all for female empowerment, but girls can still save the world while giggling over fashion tips and cookie dough ice cream.
    moreover, i don't think it's a crime to want to rely on someone else sometimes. strong women can like strong men, and who says either gender has to be strong all the time, anyway? we can split the victories 50/50; that seems fair to me.
    in between the conflict, our main character can still whisper about boys without sacrificing her independence. her thinking a guy is cute does not mean she needs a boyfriend, but she's allowed to want one. after all, aren't more readers going to relate to that than another story about a girl who never wanted a boyfriend getting (guess what?) a boyfriend? ...

Beyond Reason

uncertain daydreams


do the stars look the same in tennessee?
or are they bigger, brighter than in the town i've always known?
when you breathe in, does it smell like freedom?
can you hear music from the land and sky?

does tennessee think of me, or will i never find its peace?
is it anything like the pictures i hold in my eyes?
will i always be the california girl who wished for the impossible?
or is there a place at the top of one of its mountains just waiting for me?

three


she told me something intangible at midnight
i was too stunned to look at the time, but that sounds about right
unlike the announcement she whispered across the room

three guys have liked me, and one still does?
    me?


i don't want to fall into a cinderella complex
but when talk about fashion turns into this revelation
it tends to change a person's point of view

i have a hundred questions she can't answer
her loyalty is admirable, but my curiosity is insatiable
who, when, why?

she relents when she decides one won't mind
a person i barely noticed thought i was "cool"
and he liked me because i was just me

this doesn't play out like a cheesy rom-com
i think it's slightly more similar to a sappy coming of age story
because knowing that i don't need to be someone
sounds like the resolution to a beautiful ballad
that tells the stories of...

The Unity of a Summer Haze


There's something poetic about our Walmart parking lot.
Carts rattling, music pouring from a car speaker.
Somewhere, there's a rooster crowing, too,
But that has less to do with Walmart and more to do with this town.

The heat is fermenting the morning
Into more than the 88 degrees the meteorologists promised,
And the faint breeze is nothing more than
An infrequent whisper that barely makes it through the cracked windows.

These high heels are somewhat at odds with my t-shirt and ripped shorts,
But who can wear more practical clothing under the California sun?
We are brought together with the common ground beneath our feet.
Age and size are no matter here;
Sunglasses and short sleeves are the uniform of our home.

No, those eyes are not just green


Your eyes change more frequently than the weather in the south
I watch them transform into an ocean, a wolf's pelt, and a forest
Acclimating to each environment like they were created to match every glow
They filter through colors like seasons or daylight
As indecisive as a nine-year-old trying to figure out how to spend two dollars
I'll never let them shift into just an ordinary piece of you
When they shine with your life, I promise to capture the moment in my heart

the skies of tennessee


my skin tingles listening to acoustic guitar
playing through my half-broken earbuds.
i close my eyes and imagine i'm there;
standing in a crowd of music fans
singing along to songs of heartbreak and pickup trucks.

somewhere in nashville, tennessee
is a meat and three dish i'll try to finish.
i'll take the second half back home so i can relive it all.
i can almost hear the sound of country tunes;
almost sense the energy of "let's do this".

but mostly i am called to the smoky mountains.
my picture of what home should look like
is trees for miles with wandering rivers weaving through.
now i'm scrolling through photos with tears in my eyes.
my daydreams have always been just beyond distant borders.

can i make this far-fetched notion come true?
it's ridiculous that a girl from a fly-over town in northern california
who's scared of spiders and trying new things
would try to move across the country...

Collective Voice

Watercolor Love


    We don't care for schedules or clear lines around perfect boxes. Our love is messy, and we always thought watercolors looked better than hyper-realism. Why confine the abstract to a set of rules?
    We decide that starlight is too cliche and instead do jumping jacks in the shallow end of the community swimming pool. The lifeguards stare, but our joy is contagious. Let's start a Zumba party and dance to the music of our laughter!
    Our mailbox fills with promotional material for fancy resorts we can't afford. If we crash someone's public Facebook event, that counts as a vacation. There might even be free food we'll shove into our backpacks to eat in the comfort of our turbulent home.
    It always circles back to brushstrokes, doesn't it? The colors can be so bright it hurts, but we prefer scrubbing stains off the floor of our garage to watching gray seep into our living room. Yes, our...

Writing Streak Week 11 Day 4


Books will never fail to be an adventure and an escape for people all over the world. They can never go out of style.

summertime reverie #ollie1stcomp


i think i'll let my heart take its own course
watch it leave a trail of whimsy as it passes through the clouds
carrying laughter like rabbit's feet
this spirit is soft and encased in periwinkle daydreams

hands reaching towards the sky to catch bubbles
my brother and i used to imagine they carried fairies
magical transportation like in the wizard of oz
flickering in front of us until they travel to someone else's backyard

it's time to sing something for no other reason than to feel my voice
spilling out of my chest to flow into the atmosphere
i don't care who hears the sound of my unfiltered joy
this is freedom in the music of the sun
hard work can wait until the end of this moment played for me

Writing Streak Week 11 Day 3


It is true that I am running out of ideas.

listless


i feel numb.
which is similar to not feeling at all
the difference is the trace of pain,
of longing for vibrance.

the worst part is,
i can't even blame it on quarantine.
because today, i wasn't alone.
i went to church,
friends biked over to my house.

yet it doesn't stop this ghost
from coming back, reminding me
of when she was my constant companion.

sleepy from the nausea medicine
that's a prescription for someone else,
and i'm rambling because i'm sick.
sick of listless days
and sick of this weak body.

i am not at home in this exterior.
inside, i am running, i am dancing.

and this poem wasn't even supposed to be about
this unnamed thing.
but is the disease any more mysterious
than the wave of passiveness
that i find harder to fight?

Writing Streak Week 11 Day 2


I wish I was better.
I wish it wasn't true that I am so sick I have to forfeit my role in the play I've been working on for months. I wish I could be a reliable part of the cast instead of sending apology after apology. I wish I didn't have to pass the torch to the understudy I shouldn't even have needed.
I wish I was better.

Empathy In Unforeseen Dress


Fangs and fur and fight.
Stay back!
Enmity digs his claws into the earth.
Do not place this beast into a corner;
Your vile stares will be met with hostility.
He burns grudges in those eyes.

But look!
Peer closer into that unnerving gaze.
Is it rage you see or is it more akin to fear?
You have seen his strength and heard his roar,
Yet you never attempted to feel his pain.

His soul is your brother.
Can't you try to understand?
His world sometimes falls apart,
You have felt that same dread before.
Have compassion for this sheep in wolf's clothing,
Stand by him, and this time, stay.

Writing Streak Week 11 Day 1


I wish people wouldn't take one part of someone and blow it up into being their entire identity, assuming that every decision will now be "in line" with what is expected for that trait.

Outdated


The dress on the screen is beautiful.
Classic, elegant, magnificent;
I am awed by this floor-length mermaid beauty.

Then the judges pounce.
"Tacky" "old fashioned" "no creativity"
How can they want to send this stunning creation
Back several decades to rot?

The things I love are now unfashionable;
Modesty, chivalry, tradition.
And when they send the designer home,
My disappointment is greater than a game show gown.

darker than before


lie down, girl, and accept the clutches of fatigue;
embrace exhaustion like a long lost friend.
you are too tired to feed yourself, and you know
your mother has broken her knee.

so if you are hungry, chew gum and be quiet.
for tenth grade has been the year of chaos,
constant movement and fighting for substance,
and now it is time to succumb.

labored


tension and muscles and strain
contorting and fighting against my own body
no sleep for hours; i ache now
feet up next to the clock

r e l i e f ?

capsules of doctor-issued expectation
sticking inside my harsh inhalations
drinking down hope

womanhood is taxing

it is not night anymore
but it is still dark
eyes closed - no - remain
another breath and then

s t i l l n e s s

A Small Town Coffee Shop


Nostalgic tones of blue and gray
Stain the walls with a murmur of harmony
People from every corner of this community
Even more diverse than the paintings on the wall

The subtle scent of coffee brewing
Permeates the place, fueling the atmosphere of acceptance
Empty cups on wooden tables scattered about
Starbucks doesn't give you conversation with its fancy brews
Yes, what other place serves the taste of "welcome home"

Anthem of a Restricted Wanderer


My body and mind are weak, and I don't understand why!
Doctors look at me and shake their heads in defeat.
If these experts are helpless, what does that make me?

Well, I am living, and I am more than just alive.
In this season, I will learn to trust even when my heart crashes down.
It is joy that I sing now, not anger or despair.

Wherever I am is where He has placed me.
Whether that's Tennessee or the bed of my frailty,
I know that God has anointed me to be His beauty and light.

Q & A for 150 Lemmings ANSWERS

Thanks for all the questions!! I'm gonna give weird titles for everyone who asked. You have been warned.


From Samina the peach tree

Embarrassing memory.
I was once describing my ancestry (half Irish half Israeli) and said "At least I'm not a basic white girl." (to be clear, I kinda am). I mean it in a funny way, but it came it sooo awkwardly... I still shudder at the memory. 
What is your guilty pleasure?
K this is so weird, but I get so much satisfaction from picking loose hairs off of people's clothes. Gosh, that's embarrassing but whatever.
Any weird food combination that is good enough to try.
I don't think I have any super weird ones, but cheese goes so well with everything, especially fruit (cheese + grapes = amazing).
What has been your best moment this year (so far)?
I'll try to keep this concise... As several of you know, I battle a weird "mystery disease". It...

Q & A for 150 Lemmings (jk jk ily)


Jeez, you guys are probably tired of me freaking out over my follower count, but I can't help it. I just have to thank you guys. You're super-duper awesome, and you've all made my day at one point or another (Mia, I'm looking at you)(but seriously all of you).
I'm not going to do a competition, because there are about a gazillion contests going on right now (and I have literally no ideas XD). So, I'm doing a Q & A. Ask whatever you like, and I'll do my best to answer it (unless it's too personal of course). Be weird, be creative, and be... a lemming? (that's so weird) (I'll see myself out) (what is it with all these parentheses)

Yours truly,

~ Anne

labored


tension and muscles and strain
pretzeling and fighting against my own body
no sleep for hours; i ache now
feet up next to the clock

r e l i e f ?

capsules of expectation
sticking inside my harsh inhalations
drinking down hope

womanhood is taxing

it is not night anymore
but it is still dark
eyes closed - no
another breath and then

s t i l l n e s s

jagged downfall


my imperfections are sending daggers at me
from the other side of the couch
all i've ever wanted is
to be everything you w a n t e d

"never enough, never enough"

and at this point
it's not even you that's doing the hurting
it's me
it's always been me

there will always be something
(everything)
wrong with what i do

guilt trips and words that
won't come back
they fly like falling stars

(what is it about the death
of the heavens
that is so poetic)

there isn't a clever turn of phrase
that can fix
what was never w h o l e

the skies of tennessee


my skin tingles listening to acoustic guitar
playing through my half-broken earbuds
i close my eyes and imagine i'm there
standing in a crowd of music fans
singing along to songs of heartbreak and pickup trucks

somewhere in nashville, tennesseee
is a meat and three dish i'll try to finish
i can almost hear the sound of country tunes
almost sense the energy of "let's do this"

but mostly i am called to the smoky mountains
my picture of what home should look like
is trees for miles and river or two
now i'm scrolling through google images with tears in my eyes
my daydreams have been there this whole time

can i make this far-fetched notion come true?
it's ridiculous that a girl from a fly-over town in northern california
who's scared of spiders and trying new things
would try to move across the country to a place she's never known

but i still hold onto this foolish hope ...

Aerial Gravity #IAmContest


I am the flying girl who has learned to fall brilliantly
I wonder what the sky will look like when I ignite
I hear the call of my dreams, like a siren of the night
I see incandescent memories whirling in the foreground of my mind
I want to engrave them on my bones as evidence of who I've been
I am the flying girl who has learned to fall brilliantly

I pretend my life is marked with pebbles to guide me home
I feel like the stars have ripped away my confidence
I touch the lifeblood of the town that made me
I worry that one day I'll forget to come back
I cry for the people I never knew how to love
I am the flying girl who has learned to fall brilliantly

I understand the calling card of pain and the way to accept it
I say I can help, but don't know if my hands can...

Writing Streak Week 9 Day 4

Their entwined hands became a shield against the shouts of hate as they stepped onto the pedestal and stared death in her face.

Ravendream #StaySoupy3

Flying through chaos; the sky is falling to pieces
Still, she discovers home in the sound of her name
Feathers black and eyes alight, she trusts her intuition
If she leaves the ones she loves, a piece of her heart always stays
Burning the wind so she can always find her way back
Searching for something rich and deep and bright
A beauty of heart, mind, strength, and freedom

Character Flaws - Sidney (from And They Danced)

  • She's very spontaneous and free-spirited, but that means she has trouble sticking to a plan
  • As a fairly open person, she takes it personally when others keep things from her
  • She always tries to see the good in people, however, this has led her to be a bit too trusting
  • When she feels hurt, her complex emotions often get the best of her, and she tends to take it out on those she cares about
  • She is usually confident in her actions, but she's terrified she'll say something she regrets in one of her spur-of-the-moment comments
  • The last point is due to her aunt shaming her whenever she speaks out of turn
  • It's hard for her to understand her friend, Ethan, since he's a more private person than her, so that can lead to conflict
  • Other people think that she's silly and shallow, which makes her angry and insecure
  • Her nosiness can both get her in trouble and help her notice things most people would...

Writing Streak Week 9 Day 3

She uprooted herself and traveled to the good land, only to find that the cost of transplanting was too high.

the skies of tennessee


my skin tingles listening to acoustic guitar
playing through my earbuds with one side that doesn't work
i close my eyes and imagine i'm there
standing in a crowd of music fans
singing along to songs of heartbreak and pickup trucks

somewhere in nashville, tennesseee
is a meat and three dish i'll try to finish
i can almost hear the sound of country tunes
sense the energy of "let's do this"

but mostly i am called to the smoky mountains
when i was younger, i pictured what home would look like
trees for miles and river or two
now i'm scrolling through google images with tears in my eyes
my daydreams have been there this whole time

can i make this far-fetched notion come true?
it's ridiculous that a girl from a fly-over town in northern california
who's scared of spiders and trying new things
would try to move across the country to a place she's never known

but i...

I Wish They Had an App for That

Guarantee of My Fusive

A simulation, a virtual reality
Of dry rub BBQ and country music
The great old Smokies and football games

Something to tell me
If I'll ever fit into
The place my dreams have promised me

Perspective


If I am never healed of this affliction
If I spend the rest of my life in this bed
If I never graduate from high school

I will stand with my head high
My situation has not changed
But I can feel heaven's arms around me
These feet cannot dance
Yet my heart will still sing

My eyes are burning with a new story
This setback may last a lifetime
Still, who can stand against me?
I will keep my heart focused on the Light
Because his presence is my hope and strength

Writing Streak Week 9 Day 2

She raced through the forest; her hair was loose, her feet were bare, and laughter gushed out of her like the waters of the river she was running home to.

Ambiance


Poetry and music and stuffed animals
And a ceiling fan spinning, spinning, spinning
Tank tops and earbuds and blankets
And a mouth grinning, grinning, grinning

Me Girl, Me


I just realized
That you, yes, you
Don't know what it's like
To be me

Christian girl
Skinny girl
Whole-heart girl
Poet girl
Suburb girl
Secret country girl
Straight girl
Naive girl
Singer girl
Worried girl
Still hopeful girl
Theatre girl
Flying girl
Falling girl
Horse girl
Dreamer girl
Opposite girl
Hopeless romantic girl
Raven girl
Me girl
Me

So I will try to tell my story
Through poetry
Scribble down my thoughts

Because right now
I am here
You are not
Let's talk

Writing Streak Week 9 Day 1

He was charisma; she was compassion - a combination in which only one can win.

Disfusive +one more new word! #create


disfusive

noun

1. The state of feeling of restless, hopeful, and confused for an indistinct future event, often when fearful or uncertain

2. A strong sense of wanderlust accompanied by an ingrained unwillingness to leave what is comfortable

*Since I created that word, I suppose I need to provide a definition for its root word.*

fusive

noun

1. The state of feeling completely integrated with and at home in one's surroundings; content

Sifting Through Future Nostalgia


What's the word for being
Restless and hopeful and altogether jumbled
Like there's something beyond your living room
But you don't know what it is yet

I'm searching for a place to be, to stay
Somewhere that tells me I'm home
Instead I'm singing country songs about LA
Wishing I knew where I was trying to go

Home is where I do not know

I have scraped together my youth in this trio of towns
There are pieces of me hanging onto each memory
You can find me in the library or my friends' houses
My voice still echoes in each theatre and stage
And a part of me doesn't want to pack up my heart and go

People write about skyscrapers and leaving the bay
Small town blues and outgrowing their childhood
I don't feel like I need to escape from
Lazy sunshine, walnut orchards, swimming for a dollar
But I don't think I want to stay here forever

I am called out of my quiet suburbs with no name
To do something, be something, just not here
My heart is wild but my mind clings to safety
I'm afraid that I'll always come back here
But should I be more worried that I won't?

I have two anklets that I don't understand #randomthoughts(1)

Exposition:
I have an anklet strung just above each foot
They're both bracelets, but they fall off my arms
One still tries to slide around my mind

Right:
My mom's friend from that one college class gave it to me
She's got the perfect carefree Cali girl look
I haven't seen her since she came to church that one time
The worn bronze beading I cling to is a promise
That I won't forget chance encounters or spontaneous generosity

Left:
This black cord with a silver plate is newer
I Still Believe / 3.20.20
I cried through that movie on the 9th
I'm terrified of the mystery that film represents for me
But I keep the too-big anklet so I can't run away from it

Dear Future Self #cherry

Dear Future Self,

I remember writing that phrase a lot in my journals from 8th grade. Funny, I'm feeling nostalgic writing a letter that will be completely nostalgic when I read it in this in the future.
Anyway, when you (me) read the year that this was written, you're probably going to think about COVID-19. Is it shallow that I think more about my own “mystery disease”, friends, and concerns for the future more than I think about the global pandemic? I can’t tell if it’s a coping technique (escapism?) or if I’m just that shallow. I worry about everyone a lot, but it’s so draining. Not that focusing on my individual issues isn’t exhausting, but at least I’m not taking on everyone else’s panic as my own.

The reason I'm saying "you" instead of "I" is because I know I'll be so different in the future. Right now I'm listening to "The Man I Wanna Be" by Jake Scott...

Enumeration

5 Myths About Me

1. I believe I'm beautiful. Sure, I tell myself that all the time, but being skinny has its downsides. It's pretty hard to ignore when another girl walks into class and the jaws of every guy in the room hit the floor.
2. I'm always positive. I have an undeniable joy and peace from my faith, but I've gone through some rough stuff just like everyone else. And this quarantine isn't exactly making things better.
3. Just because I'm a Christian, it makes me hateful. A difference in beliefs doesn't mean I'm going to judge everyone.
4. I know what I want to do. I'm the kind of person who tries to plan everything, but life doesn't like to stick to my designs.
5. My talents guarantee my success. I may have a few gifts, but reality check: There are billions of people who are more capable than I am, and I'm not even as hard-working as I try to be either.

dissatisfied


they all want to be skinny,
and i wonder
is it wrong that i have learned
to cast aside the body
that they think they crave?

we stand facing each other
like twisted reflections
both a picture of the other's longing
"one girl's trash
is another's treasure"

why do we cling to the impossible?
we are all beautiful
but none of us believe it
i am guilty of self-condemnation
but aren't we all?

lying about our satisfaction
fighting to fit into perfection
like jeans one size in the wrong direction
"no pain no gain"

curvy, curveless
labels that mean more than praise
concepts pointing out the irony
of modern society

​When you love someone, you never let them stay

It's so hard to keep something this overwhelming
Clutched so desperately close to my soul
Bleeding out my efforts to make sure you don't know

And not because it would make you slip
A little further away from my empty hands

It's because it would probably hurt you
To know that you have made me this insane
You don't need that pressure thrown onto your shoulders

I can keep it to myself, I will keep it to myself
I'll make sure that you never have to hold it
Even if it kills me, so help me I will love you in this way
Because even if I can't stop this weight
From enveloping my thoughtless mind
I will keep this toxic heart near to me and

far
away
from

you

Impossibilities

All I want is one day where we both want the same things

Your heart forgets its aches and patterns
Mine finally gets to hold you

Beauty unraveling in a spiral of colors you can taste
Hope for a future without the knowledge of breaking
The inconceivable realized as we believe in love again

love me until you disappear


promise me you will not fall away,
sailing through open waters
without remembering your friend.

i suppose i should set you free.
but i am selfish, and
even dandelion seeds preserve a memory
of the place from whence they came.

you can find me after the flood


i cannot find a reason to justify
why i hold onto you

well that's not exactly true

i've never had control of who i adore
i am the girl who doesn't remember
what it feels like to let go of love

every time i try to touch a heart
it makes me think i'm in love
and then i look back
i laugh at my ignorance
while making the same mistake

and i still tell myself this is different
that since i have always loved you
in a friendship of sincerity
that makes this mean something more

maybe it does
maybe i will look back at this
and remember it as real
or maybe it is just fantasy

let me wash away #ekphrasis(1) #LBC12


the rain is roaring down, drenching my face and making my clothes cling to my skin the way muffins stick to a tin that you forgot to grease. my hands are opened up to the heavens, and i strive to secure its secrets. every raindrop is a letter; an alphabet seeping into my soul and spelling out what i no longer know how to write. maybe if i drink in enough mysteries from the clouds, i will be able to understand what words mean.

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 4

Never forget your moments of sonder; remember that everyone has a complex life, and every one of their actions has a deeper meaning that is beyond your authority to judge.

Chronicles of Inner Strength #SelfHateSelfLove Tiebreaker

    I am the kind of person who is simultaneously terrified of change and chronically dissatisfied with the mundane. I’m a patriot afraid of stepping onto the battlefield at Yorktown, a dreamer who doesn’t take risks.
I yearn for something big to happen to me, so I can have a story worth telling. But I am often too scared to do anything about it.
    I thought something would arrive with pomp and circumstance, loudly proclaiming “Hey! Listen up! I am here to change your life!” Instead, it came gradually, like the smell of cookies that slowly spreads through your house, permeating every inch of the space. Of course, “something” smelled more like burnt toast than chocolate chips.

    It started in late September when my job making slushies at Bishop’s Pumpkin Farm became so completely draining that I would come home unable to do anything but lie on my bed and wish I were able to keep going.
    Actually, I first noticed...

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 3

If everyone is weird, then no one is. Some people are just more quirky than others, and that's okay.

Hopesong

I am yet to begin to know them well
But I prefer her laughter to the sweetest music
And his smile blooms a rewarding rose

I've gotten glimpses of a future possible
Lazy afternoon adventures and
Secrets exchanged in the night's embrace

We aren't exactly like each other
But there's a whisper of light entangling our lives
I crystallize moments to save as screenshots
Until they become memories and a backstory of love

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 2

Everyone deserves to be supported and encouraged, even if it looks like they've got it all together.

Drawing For 130+ Followers!!!

Hi! best at procrastinating came up with this super cool idea to hold a lottery/drawing for their followers, and I thought that sounded like fun. I put all of the names of my followers into a random choice generator to choose the lucky winner (I excluded those who haven't been active in the past couple of weeks). That person will receive five likes and probably some comments.

Annnd (drumroll please!) the winner isssssssss.....

writer.ly! Congratulations!!! Your prize will be awarded by the end of the day.

I love all of you guys so much. Thank you for all your support. <3

Who Looks Up #ollie1stcomp


    Lightning. One word from my dad and I am up and racing toward the dining room, blanket trailing behind me. I slide open the back door and step outside for just a moment before concerned shouts pull me back to safety.
    The sky is louder than it is bright, and the writer in me is already scrolling through metaphors to describe its anger. But I don't think it is angry. I imagine the clouds as arrogant labrador puppies, trying to outdo each other with playful growls. Then, one of them gets the idea to flash its teeth. Soon, all of them are doing it, lighting up the heavens with brilliant flashes of white.
    Or maybe the sky is lonely. There is a hint of blue in the corner of my vision. That patch of color is transformed into a small girl clinging to her childhood. She steps into the darker days of her life. She is afraid. The world is...

And They Danced #aprilaprilapril

Sidney snapped her gaze to Ethan as Fireflies by Owl City began to play on the radio. An impish gleam came into her eye, and she leaped off of the couch and stood in the middle of the living room, staring him down like she was a lost boy from Neverland.
"Dance!" she ordered as she began to step side to side along with the beat.
"Yeah, that's not happening. Dancing is not my forte." He rolled his murky green eyes at her.
Sidney laughed. "Does it look like I'm any good at it?" She began doing a sped-up version of the macarena. When he stubbornly refused to move, she grabbed his hands and dragged him next to her.
"What kind of friend would let me make a fool of myself without joining in?"
Grinning outlandishly, she pulled him around until she was satisfied that he was dancing.
Ethan reluctantly began to shuffle along before giving in and dabbing while...

What do you guys want XD


Hey, I didn't really do anything for 100 followers besides a thank you message... I still don't have any contest ideas, but if you all want a Q & A, I can do that. I think the one I did was for like 60 followers, so I figured there are a lot of people who've joined my deluded army since then. So, if you guys want, I can make a Q & A. If enough people comment, I'll post one.

With thanks for 130,

~ Anne

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1

The most important things are often the most cliche; those words have been repeated for a reason.

Love of Kind Friendship

We've known each other for lifetimes
I don't recall asking the small talk questions
It was more of a dive into carefree conversations

When I thought I had ruined it
He made me realize it was only different
Maybe it's complicated now
But I don't think we were ever simple

I can't think of as many words about us
Sentiment is getting caught in my throat
But I can tell that this will last

Friendship is stronger than silence
We will grow through time together
Boost our camaraderie with kindness
Stay side by side until we close our eyes

#42 Dreams RESULTS/WINNERS

Picking the winners for this competition was WAY harder than I thought it would be. Even though I didn't receive that many submissions, the ones that I did get were extremely well done. I am thrilled with the variety of writing styles that are present in these amazing works. Everyone who entered is so talented, and if you didn't win, it was definitely by a very small margin. I want to thank everyone who helped me make this happen. For everyone who hasn't read it yet, the dream that was the prompt for this competition can be read here. Alright, without further ado, here are the results you've been waiting for.

First place: Huntresses Come for the Archbishop (prompt 2) by A Certain Type of Decisive
This piece was by far the longest one that I received, and it's due to the fact that ACToD went above and beyond. The character work and world-building present here are astonishing.

Second...

Quotes: Funny, weird, and mostly by my brother

"All hail Pear Titus."
~ bro

"I can see the Prince of Darkness vacuuming the ceiling - to trick us!"
~ Monk (TV show)

"Flatulent cups just don't cut it anymore."
~ bro

"I'll keep that in mind next time I kill someone."
~ Me

"I'm sure I had a very pleasant time in your handbag."
~ The Importance of Being Earnest

"The Seven Dwarves but it's just a sassy black guy."
~ bro (no he's not racist; he just has no filter)(wth were we talking about)

"It's better to be afraid of the dark than be eaten by penguins."
~ Trapped (skit)

"Yes my earlobes exist. What is your point?"
~ bro

Writing Streak Challenge Week 7

Challenge Completed

Day 1

Lazy days with people I love. We don't have to do anything special; I'm fine just chilling on the couch in a tangled mess of limbs and dirty dishes. Who needs excitement when you've got old show DVDs, romcoms, ice cream, and hands to hold?
#dosemicolonsbelongintweets

Day 2

I've tried to describe music's importance to me repeatedly. I've used some fancy metaphors, but there isn't a way to describe how music brings my heart with it. It stirs something inside me that is impossible to define. All I know is when music plays, I'll sing.

Day 3

You guys!!! I seriously adore this community. Sure, it's a little bit of a Jewish grandma (if you don't get that reference, go to the_enclave), but I love it. I never realized that I would be able to find such an amazing, inclusive, and supportive outlet for my writing.

Day 4

Theatre: Creativity. Adrenaline rush. Community. Inside jokes. Love.
I've been...

Writing Streak Week 7 Day 5

I would be nowhere without Jesus. I have had supernatural experiences that have changed my entire life, healing me from anxiety and disease in an instant. Thanks to God, I have found perfect peace, even when my life crumbles.
John 3:17
#yearofthebible

Writing Streak Week 7 Day 4

Theatre: Creativity. Adrenaline rush. Community. Inside jokes. Love.
I've been a theatre kid since I was four years old. It's given me something to look forward to at the end of the day, week, month, and year, and I am forever grateful. <3

femininity


i am sorry that i am not content
with the body you think you want
you suck in your beautiful bellies
and i lie down and wish i looked like a girl

when i was a child
people heard my words, and they assumed
i was older than my years

now i am thought to be young
they pay no mind to my speech
and only see my size

small, so small
withering away; decomposing
sick from a lack of womanhood

~ flat-chest girl

Flashlight

Skinny Gossip

Girls say I look like I eat cabbage for dinner
And think it's a compliment
They admire my malnourished wrists and hands
And think I like them

Boys say I look like a toothpick with a face
And hope there's more
They take in my complete lack of simple curves
And walk the other way

~ flat-chest girl

I am not a feminist but I do have an opinion

Okay. I don't generally align myself with the label "feminist", and I'm not going to really go into the details why not. But there's been something bothering me ever since I wrote the piece "Why do people think that skinny girls don't need comfort?" This discomfort was brought to mind when I was reading a book yesterday. It's a wonderful book with a great message, but something about this one part was somewhat upsetting.
The main character meets a thin girl, and she says to herself that the girl "looked as though she frequently dined on ice cubes and lettuce leaves." While this line is fairly funny, I couldn't ignore the thought plaguing my mind: Is that what people think about me?
The worst part about this is we've come so far in the movement of body positivity, but there's a double standard. If someone said that a plus size girl looked like she dined on pasta and chocolate cake,...

Open-hearted

If you walk to the edge of the earth
I still know how to find you
You need not fear the end of time
My love will be there for you

I can see the fight in your eyes
Darling, the battle is already won for you
Run beneath my golden banner
The weight I give you is called mercy

It's okay to let yourself need rest
My arms are always open
I can see you through this darkness
My love will be there for you

Ambedo

Rain pattering lightly on the windshield
K-LOVE playing soothingly from the radio
My legging-clad self curled up in the front seat
Whispers from heaven breathing life
Eyes closed, letting the world simply slow down
This is what it is like to be at peace

nameless


i am soil
                sunrise
                            stardust
                                            silence

my body is a messy, wondrous shell around    forgotten ideologies

gritty and insubstantial
i have not found my home yet

do i belong amidst the rush of a river or
                                                                5 pm traffic

burying my hands in fallen metaphors
smiling at figurative language    "i love you"    wouldn't that be nice

i am full of memories and compliments
begging the posters on my wall to become reality

who is this flat-chest girl
                                        soul-sing girl
                                                            night-write girl
                                                                                day-dream girl
                                                                                                        heart-love girl
                                                                                                                                    girl-girl girl

Writing Streak Week 7 Day 3

You guys!!! I seriously adore this community. Sure, it's a little bit of a Jewish grandma (if you don't get that reference, go to the_enclave), but I love it. I never realized that I would be able to find such an amazing, inclusive, and supportive outlet for my writing.

nameless

i am soil
                sunrise
                            stardust
                                            silence

my body is a messy, wondrous shell around    forgotten ideologies

gritty and insubstantial
i have not found my home yet

do i belong amidst the rush of a river or
                                                                5 pm traffic

burying my hands in fallen metaphors
smiling at figurative language    "i love you"    wouldn't that be nice

i am full of memories and compliments
begging the posters on my wall to become reality

who is this flat-chest girl
                                        soul-sing girl
                                                            night-write girl
                                                                                day-dream girl
                                                                                                        heart-love girl
                                                                                                                                    girl-girl girl

Open-hearted

If you walk to the edge of the earth
I still know how to find you
You need not fear the end of time
My love will be there for you

I can see the fight in your eyes
Darling, the battle is already won for you
Run beneath my golden banner
The weight I give you is called mercy

It's okay to let yourself need rest
My arms are always open
I can see you through this darkness
Lean on my strength now

Writing Streak Week 7 Day 2

I have tried to describe music and its importance to me again and again. While I've used some fancy metaphors, there isn't really a good way to describe the way music rises and falls, bringing my heart with it. It stirs something inside me that is impossible to define, and there isn't any comparison to do it justice. All I know is when music plays, I will listen. I will listen, and I will sing.

Spur of the moment one-liner

In the presence of tenure, the stranger's torch is perpetually dimmed

Happy Limerick Day!


In honor of today's random holiday, here are some limericks I wrote in my 8th grade creative writing class. I will warn you, they're pretty bad.

My friends think that I am obnoxious
They're putting me in all these boxes
But they know I'm true
Each day is so new
And we all know that we got this

It's funny that you think I like bluebirds
So you place me with all of these new birds
The truth you couldn't know
It's not so special, so
Just know that the answer is two words*

I am and always will be a food thief
Often, I beg, and I'll give you grief
If you don't give me food
Don't mean to be rude
Food begging and stealing is my belief**

Awkward turtles make weird babies
Where they live, it's always shady
They have goofy smiles
They'll follow you for miles
I'm telling the truth, yes, I'm crazy***

A Poet is What I Am #dramatize

I am a poet. When the spoken word fails to make its mark on the world around me, I pick up a pencil, phone, or laptop. And I write.
​Letters pour out of the chaos in my mind, and things I never knew how to say are tattooed on a page. Black against white, thoughts against judgment, me against the world.
When I was younger, I tried to mold my daydreams into prose. Grasping my fantasies with tiny toddler fingers, I told stories of horses and flying. I tried my hand at drawing, seeing if lead against printer paper would submit to my will. I have also attempted to write songs. If I sing and desire to write, shouldn't that be enough to form melodies to attract someone's ear?
One by one, artistry defied my wishes, taunting me with dancing feet, for that is something I failed at, too.
Then, I revisited a 6th grade dream I never thought would...

The Lament of Cat Grant

Why can I not be your Lois Lane?
I am not good enough to be your muse.
Love left me struggling to write a new story,
But you have chosen another bottle of ink
To spill all over the floor.

A weird but novelesque(ish?) exchange

So my brother was like "The sky is really weepy today" and because I'm in a weird mood I immediately replied, "Maybe the sky is just taking a shower".
Yeah, that's really weird, but if it fits into anyone's novel or short story, I give you free rein.

I'm gonna go now XD.

#42dreams Submissions Closed

The #42dreams contest is now closed. I did not get very many submissions, so there will just be an overall first, second, and third place. Results will be announced by the 17th.

Writing Streak Week 7 Day 1

Lazy days with people I love. We don't have to do anything special; I'm fine just chilling on the couch in a tangled mess of limbs and dirty dishes. Who needs excitement when you've got old show DVDs, romcoms, ice cream, and hands to hold?
#dosemicolonsbelongintweets

even the sun must darken today #BaringMySoul1 #Champion

We were beginnings and jumbled up middles;
Two imperfect children orbiting time.
I looked up at the sky and realized I was still looking into your eyes.

pink,
orange,
yellow,
red,
yellow - no - gold.

I believed in magic because that's the only reason
Why two rough edges like ours stayed together.
And we were together.
Not in some spectacular romance,
Because we were made for something more down to earth.

Then I sang and danced among the brilliant hues of the clouds.
Without meaning to,
I tried to drag you up with me.

But you were a creature of something else entirely,
Not water, air, fire, or earth.
You do not belong in the sky with me,
This I realized a lifetime too late.

We have outgrown our beginnings,
The middles were too contented to last.
I understand now that the flight is over.
So I will drink in the sunset you never meant to paint.

pink,
orange, ...

Opinions please!! (Tiebreaker)

I would love to enter K-9crazy's Ultimate Writing Challenge, but I'm unsure what to submit for the week one prompt, which is just to enter your best work. I don't know which of my pieces is the best. Could you guys please choose from what you've read of my writing and say which one you think is my best? I'll link some of them in this post, but if you prefer something that I don't list here, just comment whatever you like the most.

something
even the sun must darken today
a poet is what i am
let me wash away
Poetry Is
Why do people think that skinny girls don't need comfort?
flat-chest girl

I really appreciate your guys' opinions. Thank you!

be still


vomiting in the urgent care parking lot
wires, working, white noise
a hospital never sleeps, never rests
i cannot move without being blinded
my stomach is unable to handle anything
the iv attached to my arm is my lifeline
i wish i could remember normal

#42dreams CONTEST!!

In honor of my 42 followers, I'm going to be hosting my very first contest! And it's a weird one. You have been warned.

A while ago, I had a dream (which I will post with the title #42dreams contest prompt) that was oddly vivid and cinematic. I always thought it would make a great book or movie. Which is where you guys come in!

Prompt 1: Turn the dream into a short story. You can change minor details, but keep the essence of the story alive. You may also choose one part of the dream and expand it instead. What happens after the characters go under the Courtyard?

Prompt 2: Choose a character from the dream (for example: the old man, Solomon, or even me, because now I am a character), and give them a backstory.

Prompt 3:Write a poem about the dream from the perspective of one of the characters. Or, you can create your own character...

#42dreams contest prompt

If you wanna know what the heck this is, check out my #42dreams contest.

I'm sneaking into a city with others (one is an old man who is an author). Books are forbidden. Everything ABSOLUTELY has to be made in perfect shapes. Everyone is on their phone literally all the time. If you are not on a phone, you must look like you lost it and are desperately searching for it to not seem suspicious. All must worship the sacred spirits.

Lots of stuff happens. We are helped by a somewhat shy but kind and courageous teenage guy named Solomon. He does not worship the spirits either. The way he helps us is by leading us to where we can find powerful books. They are powerful simply because the author with us can understand enough of them to learn for himself, which is forbidden. More stuff happens.

We get arrested with an old lady who was kind to us, evil...

WORK IN PROGRESS - Reviews greatly appreciated

I am the kind of person who is simultaneously terrified of change and chronically dissatisfied with the mundane. I’m a butterfly afraid of leaving her cocoon; a dreamer who doesn’t take risks.
I yearn for something big to happen to me, so I can have a story worth telling. But I am often too scared to do anything about it.
I thought “something” would arrive with pomp and circumstance, loudly proclaiming “Hello! I am here to change your life!” Instead, it came gradually, like the smell of cookies that slowly spreads through your house, permeating every inch of the space. Of course, “something” smelled more like burnt toast than chocolate chips.

It started in late September when my job making slushies at Bishop’s Pumpkin Farm became so exhausting that I would come home unable to do anything but lie on my bed.
Actually, I first noticed it in August. My teacher’s pet self had late assignments only two weeks into...

WORK IN PROGRESS - Reviews greatly appreciated

I am the kind of person who is simultaneously terrified of change and chronically dissatisfied with the mundane. I’m a butterfly afraid of leaving her cocoon; a dreamer who doesn’t take risks.
I yearn for something big to happen to me, so I can have a story worth telling. But I am often too scared to do anything about it.
I thought “something” would arrive with pomp and circumstance, loudly proclaiming “Hello! I am here to change your life!” Instead, it came gradually, like the smell of cookies that slowly spreads through your house, permeating every inch of the space. Of course, “something” smelled more like burnt toast than chocolate chips.

It started in late September when my job making slushies at Bishop’s Pumpkin Farm became so exhausting that I would come home unable to do anything but lie on my bed.
Actually, I first noticed it in August. My teacher’s pet self had late assignments only two weeks into...

my memos and kindle apps are precious

i am not afraid of the dark
nor the things that hide in it
i am afraid of the silence
and the pain that comes with it

so i fill the void with poetry
fingers flying to create music
my nights are bookworm exploits
and silence covered by dreams

WORK IN PROGRESS - Reviews greatly appreciated

I am the kind of person who is simultaneously terrified of change and chronically dissatisfied with the mundane. I’m a butterfly afraid of leaving her cocoon; a dreamer who doesn’t take risks.
I yearn for something big to happen to me, so I can have a story worth telling. But I am often too scared to do anything about it.
I thought “something” would arrive with pomp and circumstance, loudly proclaiming “Hello! I am here to change your life!” Instead, it came gradually, like the smell of cookies that slowly spreads through your house, permeating every inch of the space. Of course, “something” smelled more like burnt toast than chocolate chips.
It started in late September when my job making slushies at Bishop’s Pumpkin Farm became so exhausting that I would come home unable to do anything but lie on my bed.
Actually, I first noticed it in August. My teacher’s pet self had late assignments only two weeks into...

UPDATE: A message from WhispersOfGray

Here's the original PSA.

She says: Thanks all of y'all for all the love and support. I appreciate it so much! I'll try to get back on if I ever can. I'll miss reading all your fantastic pieces! You're all so talented and it was always a pleasure to read your stuff. You guys have made me a better writer, and I can't thank y'all enough. I'll miss you guys so, so much! Thank you for reading my pieces, giving me encouragement, critiquing and so much more. I want to especially thank Tush for reading EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY PIECES and all those sweet comments. They made my day, Tush, you have no idea. Thanks all of you, I mean it. You guys are amazing people, I'll never forget y'all! Sending all my love and virtual hugs. I wish you all the best, love y'all. <3

Farsick

findme

It doesn't fit. It doesn't make sense given my skills, passions, family, or childhood.

But I desire to live in the country. Or the mountains. Anywhere I can run as far as I like and then collapse onto the ground, with nothing but the earth beneath me, above me, around me. I need to be able to sit on a huge rock, close my eyes, and do nothing but sit there and dream. My feet ache for the feel of grass and dirt reminding me I'm still here. I belong in a place where the only creatures to hear me sing are the birds, with no human audience to silently assess the way my heart fills my voice.
The thing is, I still need people. I crave company like a Snicker's bar during that time of month. Loneliness is something that I can feel even surrounded by people; how much more so will it fill me if I am...

PSA: People who entered #BaringMySoul and/or follow WhispersOfGray

Unfortunately, I have bad news for you guys. I am very sad to say that Gray is no longer allowed to have a Write the World account. She's not even permitted to post this message herself. I'm so sorry if you entered her contest; it is now canceled. I know we will all miss the talented ray of sunshine that she is. She promises to keep writing, even though she can't post it anymore. If anyone has a message for her, you can comment on this piece, and I will tell her. Additionally, I'd really appreciate it if some of you with larger followings than mine would spread the news so everyone who entered her competition or follows her can know.

Her friend,

Anne

There Are 100 of You Now??

Guys. I am freaking out right now. I have 100 followers!! That's so insane to me. Heck, I'm still running a comp for 42 followers. This feels sort of surreal. I am beyond grateful to all of you people who decided to hit that button, as well as anyone who liked or commented on one of my pieces. You guys are the best.
Usually people do something special for a milestone like this. I don't have any competition ideas, and I just did a Q & A fairly recently. But if you guys want another Q & A or something that I haven't thought of, make sure to comment below.
Here's a list of all the amazing (and maybe crazy) people who decided to follow me. Make sure to give them some love.

The Campbell's Kid
the.greater.odyssey
greenearth1
New York_dreamer
RogueRaider
soapsoup
Bear<3
-writinginhopesofsomeday-
Riley Noel
Ollie?
Quille
poetri
eflattering429
Writing4Life
WishfulKittyKat1
Danielle Lowenna
Carolyn
Briala Smith
V4Vendetta
bbbb
Coolgirl2020
SuperKewlKiwi ...

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You)

I've got some really good friends
And they've been telling me that I'm worthy
That I deserve to be treated right
I'm actually starting to believe them

I thought that you were on their side
You told me you cared about me so much
Not in a romantic way, but I don't care about that
All I want is to have you back in my life
This is not a command for you to stay
I am simply laying all the cards on the table

You can be a magician all you want
Weaving spells around my heart without trying
But it's only so long before the illusion wears off
And I am left wondering what was real

Whatever you tell me next, I still trust you
But I can't learn anything from silence

Declaration of Decisions

Standing here in front of you
Your eyes betray nothing
Mine spell out my entire life story
If you still care to read it

Boldness is not usually my strategy
But this calls for an extra ounce of courage
I am done hiding behind glass

If you can see me, say something
Tell me what to expect from you
This has felt like a goodbye
I need to know if you're leaving me

Don't let me get my hopes up
Only to disappear somewhere down the road
Spell out your intentions for my heart
In whatever medium you choose

Just choose something, please
Will it be friendship or a receding tide
Sunrises and bright days or bittersweet sunsets

I am holding onto the memory of your hand
This is where you take it away
Or squeeze my fingers and promise me consistency

something


i was always afraid that you would stop
caring
about me
it's just that you convinced me my fears
were unfounded
was i wrong to believe you

i don't think you're doing this
intentionally
you're too kind to try to hurt me
i know that

but every notification that never appears
drives into my memory
rippling in the back of my mind
taunting me

where are you
i am not supposed to need you
but i don't know how i'm supposed to keep going
and acting like your disappearance
is nothing to
me

am i nothing to
you
i don't need to be your everything
just
something

please

i miss you

misguided

i always knew you were too good for me.
so alive and inspired and Kind;
something unimaginable.

my hands are too Unsteady,
too faulty and worn down.
you counted the Scars i held onto.

i thought that you'd still stay with me.
my foolishness let me enjoy
the Freedom sewn into chocolate chip afternoons.

you pulled your Safety elsewhere;
maybe you were alarmed by something.
i don't know, and i guess it doesn't matter.

because you are gone.
it hurts differently than my Nightmares
told me it would.

this is harder than flying but
i am keeping my heart away from you.
and it is Better this way.

#littlethings - little joys

  • Closing my eyes and letting music saturate my heart
  • Shenanigans over Zoom - theatre kids will be theatre kids, no matter the distance
  • Cozy blankets that I drape around my shoulders like a cloak as I scurry around the house
  • Fruit salad with fresh and frozen fruit that explodes onto my tastebuds
  • Watching movies and TV shows (Murder On The Orient Express is a masterpiece) with my family
  • My brother in a trench coat and Uncle Sam hat ('nuff said)
  • Photos of horses and everything-free cookies sent by a thoughtful castmate

#42dreams CONTEST!!

In honor of my 42 followers, I'm going to be hosting my very first contest! And it's a weird one. You have been warned.

A while ago, I had a dream (which I will post with the title #42dreams contest prompt) that was oddly vivid and cinematic. I always thought it would make a great book or movie. Which is where you guys come in!

Prompt 1: Turn the dream into a short story. You can change minor details, but keep the essence of the story alive. You may also choose one part of the dream and expand it instead. What happens after the characters go under the Courtyard?

Prompt 2: Choose a character from the dream (for example: the old man, Solomon, or even me, because now I am a character), and give them a backstory.

Prompt 3:Write a poem about the dream from the perspective of one of the characters. Or, you can create your own character...

Paint Me Beautiful #BaringMySoul3


In twenty years, look back at me
Do not forget my light
Of course, I do not desire regret
I seek only uncomplicated nostalgia

But I hope you will recall
A lotus flower scattering kindness
Not a broken pulse incapable
Or a sick girl distracted

Remember me alive
Paint me beautiful

something


i was always afraid that you would stop
caring
about me
it's just that you convinced me my fears
were unfounded

i don't think you're doing this
intentionally
you're too kind to try to hurt me
i know that

but every notification that never appears
drives into my memory
rippling in the back of my mind
taunting me

where are you
i am not supposed to need you
but i don't know how i'm supposed to keep going
and acting like your disappearance
is nothing to
me

am i nothing to
you
i don't need to be your everything
just
something

please

something

i was always afraid that you would stop
caring
about me
it's just that you convinced me my fears
were unfounded

i don't think you're doing this
intentionally
you're too kind to try to hurt me
i know that

but every notification that never appears
drives into my memory
rippling in the back of my mind
taunting me

where are you
i am not supposed to need you
but i don't know how i'm supposed to keep going
and acting like your disappearance
is nothing to
me

am i nothing to
you
i don't need to be your everything
just
something

please

Writing Streak Week 5 Day 5 - Friday

I am head.
Head and heart fighting;
Screams and sincere.
These pieces of me are the strongest and loudest,
They misunderstand and complicate
The things I try to know.

let me wash away

the rain is roaring down, drenching my face and making my clothes cling to my skin the way muffins stick to a tin that you forgot to grease. my hands are opened up to the heavens, and i strive to secure its secrets. every raindrop is a letter; an alphabet seeping into my soul and spelling out what i no longer know how to write. maybe if i drink in enough mysteries from the clouds, i will be able to understand what words mean.

Writing Streak Week 5 Day 4 - Thursday

I am intestines.
Intestines and muscles twisting and aching;
Sickly and sore.
There are noises coming from my stomach unwillingly,
Protesting the state of my body
And tangling of my art.

#42dreams CONTEST!!

In honor of my 42 followers, I'm going to be hosting my very first contest! And it's a weird one. You have been warned.

A while ago, I had a dream (which I will post with the title #42dreams contest prompt) that was oddly vivid and cinematic. I always thought it would make a great book or movie. Which is where you guys come in!

Prompt 1: Turn the dream into a short story. You can change minor details, but keep the essence of the story alive. You may also choose one part of the dream and expand it instead. What happens after the characters go under the Courtyard?

Prompt 2: Choose a character from the dream (for example: the old man, Solomon, or even me, because now I am a character), and give them a backstory.

Prompt 3:Write a poem about the dream from the perspective of one of the characters. Or, you can create your own character...

Writing Streak Week 5 Day 3 - Wednesday

I am hands.
Hands and feet reaching far;
Seismic and selective.
I keep trying to obtain something constant,
But this is ice and quicksand
Always falling away from me.

Writing Streak Week 5 Day 2 - Tuesday

I am legs.
Legs and underarms unshaved;
Skinny and sluggish.
My limbs are too exhausted to drag themselves places,
And they do not understand
Why I cannot fly today.

Writing Streak Week 5 Day 1 - Monday


I am bones.
Bones and skin draping over;
Synonyms and sallow.
Water is streaming out of the showerhead,
The one that tends to miss my body
And hit the shower curtain instead.

An Ode to Your Light #kayv(4)


When I look at you,
I see the sun rising and expelling all thoughts but awe.
The moon shines a little brighter when she looks down at you,
Because she sees a soul that was crafted
To tell stories of luminescence.

I cannot know if she is right,
But I know that you've held words to rival burning stars.
My hands cannot form images
Or reach someone so wonderfully timeless.

And I have no towering expectations to weigh you down.
I have no need for you to do some great thing;
You are my great thing
(even if you are not mine).

Do not mind me, I will just listen.
I will listen, and I will write.
After all, masterpieces are not only to be admired,
But also experienced
And loved.

The Promised Land


I was not there when my parents groaned under Egypt's hand
I have not seen the Red Sea make way for my feet
A cloud by day and fire by night have guided me my whole life
Quail and manna are a wonder that are all I've known

My entire life is a miracle, or so I've been told
I only see parched ground threatening to swallow us up
If I die out here, I will never touch water not from a stone
A land of promise is something I don't understand

But I trust in the God that has always watched over me
I would not be here if not for his everyday glories
Even when I do not understand why we cannot rest
I worship in the desert and hope for days of rain
Although I have never felt anything but aching feet
I will never forsake Him, and I will see the Promised Land

Paint Me Beautiful

In twenty years, look back at me
Do not forget my light
Of course, I do not desire regret
I seek only uncomplicated nostalgia

But I hope you will recall
A lotus flower scattering kindness
Not a broken pulse incapable
Or a sick girl distracted

Remember me alive
Paint me beautiful

We're Stuck At Home - Into The Unknown Parody

I can hear you but I can't
See you in person, just Hangouts Meet
This social distance is driving me insane
I'd like to leave but in my house I must remain
oh oh oh
Oh oh

Covid-19
People are acting foolishly
And they have bought all - the supplies
In a panic shopping spree

They're running out of toilet paper in every major store
The only roll that's left is being trampled on the floor
There's nothing to do here, except call my friends on zoom
If the WiFi starts to break then it will spell our doom

We're stuck at hooooome
We're stuck at hooooome
We're stuck at hooooome

I'm paranoid
And it's been keeping me awake
When I walked in the kitchen, my mom was bleaching all our eggs
We've sanitized every surface in this home
There's nowhere left for the virus to now roam

Every day's a little harder as I feel the boredom spread
I'm...

Writing Streak Week 4 Day 5

Bananas aren't filling, but they are pretty high-calorie for fruit, so they are a great filler when I haven't eaten enough. Smoothies are also a lifesaver.

#SelfHateSelfLove - flat-chest girl - Prompt #3 - First entry

I don't look at fashion magazines
I mean, who reads real magazines anymore?
But I do look around
And I see pretty painted everywhere
Smiles and busts and perfect

I don't have a problem with my face
Sure, it's not stunning and it gets dotted with acne if I'm not careful
But it's not so bad
It's just that when you look like a guy when you wear a hoodie
And your pixie cut was the scariest thing you ever did
That's definitely a problem

You know those sweet guys
Who make the videos telling girls not to change themselves
Well they still turn right around and date that magic girl
Who is thin but still shaped like an hourglass
Or they went and got a plus size girl
Because curves are much more desirable than a stick

Don't get me wrong; I know I'm beautiful
I do
It can be really hard to believe that though
I stand strong...

Writing Streak Week 4 Day 4

The cyst in my brain is almost definitely not harmful. It's probably been there since I was born.

Writing Streak Week 4 Day3

My youth group leaders are so accepting and encouraging

isolation


i am missing humanity, and it's getting hard
to breathe without air sticking in my throat.
my phone is right beside me and i could
text a friend, and i want to, but i have
nothing to say; my mind is a blank slate
and there is no one to write on it.

even when this distance is no longer required, i
still will not be able to see a face, because
i am too tired to leave my room. and
making conversation was hard enough when there wasn't
brain fog seeping through my being.

i notice i am crying and i don't think
i've ever cried from loneliness
without it being tied to something else.
i tried to sleep, but the silence was screaming, yes
this is what being alone feels like.

Does anyone here have both free time and drawing ability

Sooo if anyone wants to, there's this picture in my head that is absolutely live to see actually drawn.
A girl is standing with her face turned upwards in wonder and one hand outstretched (forward and up) like she's trying to reach something slightly above her. Next to her, a guy is holding her (other) hand and looking down at her, more in love with her than the fireflies surrounding them that have enraptured her so much.
For inspiration, you can read my piece And They Danced, listen to Fireflies by Owl City, and/or look at some qinniart.

Writing Streak Week 4 Day 2

Ice cream is literally the greatest food ever, and I'm about to have some

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers can't hold the weight of its matter
Its lines are mangled by the bitterness of judgment
Destroying a poem's freedom is a sound so repugnant
It's not mechanical parts, not ones and zeroes; something deeper

A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting mischief and the spirit of truth
Whispers and fireworks; these moments of youth

Poetry is the lifetimes crafted into the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
With the scent of bravery and also running to hide
It's stronger than the scrap of faith we cling to inside
An ever-thriving force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved in a thousand-year-old tree

Poetry is a knock on an ancient door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

not-quite-there #PrompyCompy1

We were like a ghost flower:
Hauntingly beautiful and not-quite-there
not-quite-friends
not-quite-more
Flying on shadows and the memories of moonlight
Magic
And swept away by the quiet promise

Of forgetting

A Poet is What I Am #dramatize

I am a poet. When the spoken word fails to make its mark on the world around me, I pick up a pencil, or my phone, or a laptop. And I write.
​Letters pour out of the chaos in my mind, and things I never knew how to say are tattooed on a page. Black against white, thoughts against judgement, me against the world.
When I was younger, I tried to mold my daydreams into prose. Grasping my fantasies with tiny toddler fingers, I told stories of horses and flying. I tried my hand at drawing, seeing if lead against printer paper would submit to my will. I have also attempted to write songs. If I sing and desire to write, shouldn't that be enough to form melodies to attract someone's ear?
One by one, artistry defied my wishes, taunting me with dancing feet, for that is something I failed at, too.
Then, I revisited something I never thought would...

And They Danced #creativitytime

Sidney snapped her gaze to Ethan as Fireflies by Owl City began to play on the radio. An impish gleam came into her eye, and she leaped off of the couch and stood in the middle of the living room, staring him down like she was a lost boy from Neverland.
"Dance!" she ordered as she began to step side to side along with the beat.
"Yeah, that's not happening. Dancing is not my forte." He rolled his murky green eyes at her.
Sidney laughed. "Does it look like I'm any good at it?" She began doing a sped-up version of the macarena. When he stubbornly refused to move, she grabbed his hands and dragged him next to her.
"What kind of friend would let me make a fool of myself without joining in?"
Grinning outlandishly, she pulled him around until she was satisfied that he was dancing.
Ethan reluctantly began to shuffle along before giving in and dabbing while...

Writing Streak Week 4 Day 1

An extremely understanding and supportive director <3

femininity

i am sorry that i am not content
with the body you think you want
you suck in your beautiful bellies
and i lie down and wish i looked like a girl

when i was a child
people heard my words, and they assumed
i was older than my years

now i am thought to be young
they pay no mind to my speech
and only see my size

small, so small
withering away; decomposing
sick from a lack of womanhood

~ flat chest girl

a karaoke machine speaks on repeat #1stchallenge

I should be dancing in a field or stream
No longer thinking of you
I should hear a laugh that belongs to me
Not an echo of your view

I had never meant to just fall apart
Hanging onto guitar strings
I had held onto every break and start
It hurt me so that I could sing

If we didn't beg for different lives
And the silver lining didn't shatter me
If I finally told you love one more time
And nighttime didn't make it hard to see
If I strung a microphone through my veins
And my heartbeat spoke a thousand tears
If I wrote a story where we could change
Would it ever bring your lifeline near

Pocket Poem

the alliance of beautiful distant things by A Rose

Whenever the water pours from this old dreary clay cup
may with reckless abandon it pour onto the golden flower's
sweet petals. may water have memory in the truest sense
and remember the slim ache of the cloud's isolation. 
if when the cold pale moon lays itself to it's final 
resting place--right here in this room--may it tell us
all the truth, remind of us of its infinite isolation
and how pretty we all are from a distance.
we're gorgeous
from a distance like the mountains tops say.
glorious and pastel we are, till you get to us
and suddenly you can't understand the illusion. 
may when the winter takes its spotlight, you
find the light seeping through your window
view and follow that lively path straight
to your childhood dreams. 

i remember you. you may have forgotten us
and yourself too
like lads like you tend to do. you
still feel like strawberries and soft
snowballs to me. i...

Writing Streak Week 3 Day 5

I dream, I burn, I fly

Writing Streak Week 3 Day 4

I'll never stop hoping and loving

i am too tired


i stagger to the bathroom and back to bed again
dizzy, is this what it's like to be drunk
probably not
but this is still unbearable

i am still hungry
is what i think as i stare at
the messy plate lying conspicuously next to me
surrounded by my nest of blankets

i will not say what my stomach groans
it has to learn to be uncomfortable
for my mother is asleep
and she is already doing
too much

Broken Questions

Tears are bleeding down my face
I've been shattered before
This is something I've known a thousand times
I never have the strength to hold myself together

But You sing to me, literally
A song of pure acceptance of every ugly fracture
Your perfect Love is so whole that I am complete
Even while I am breaking in front of You

I have no choice but to surrender my pain
Because my Lord refuses to simply watch
Trusting Him to love me is the only thing keeping me alive

Darksong - Prompt 3

I place each dream on top of the other
And you smile at me and remove the foundation
You're being yourself in the other direction
While my heart collapses like a game of Jenga

My pain pours out of my persecuted eyes
As I barricade my broken parts behind the bathroom door
Begging myself to put them back together

I open my mouth just enough
To attempt a release of this anguish

But I force myself to stay silent
So you still think I'm whole
Instead of wholeheartedly falling apart
For you

Writing Streak Week 3 Day 3

I paint with poetry and song

A list of pretty names (Part 2)

Canaan: to be brought into synchronicity. This male name is that of the land of milk and honey that the Israelites were promised.

Zaharina: Yahweh has remembered. Female Hebrew name.

Ronan: Little seal. Male (English?) name.

Avriel: Latin meaning to open. In Judaism, it is the name of an angel. Name can be gender-neutral. Nickname: Avi. Fun fact: A former member of Pentatonix has this name.

Zahara: Swahili and Arabic meaning flower. Hebrew meaning to shine. Female name that has a very distinctive sound to it.

Talia: Indigenous Australian meaning by the water. Hebrew meaning dew from God. Female name that can also be a shortened form of the Russian Natalia.

Kala: Tamil meaning virtue. Pacific meaning princess. Female name that is easily pronounced in most languages.

Beckett: Beehive. Male English name that is uncommon but easy to pronounce. A namesake is a famous playwright, Samuel Beckett.

Kaia: Depending on the nationality, means sea, home, earth, or to rejoice. Female name.
...

#MyName

The name Anne has only one meaning, and that is the Hebrew "grace".

Since that's not very interesting, I'll also share my favorite names and their meanings (I have a whole folder on my notes app dedicated to this). My top two are at the bottom of the list.

Galilee: To roll. This female name is derived from the Sea of Galilee, an important Biblical location that I have visited more than once. A girl with this name could also go by Lilee or Lee.

Azriel: God is my help. A male Hebrew name I found going through genealogies in the Bible.

Alinta: Flame. A female Aboriginal name. Nicknames are Ali and Lin.

Sarita: Indian meaning river. Hebrew meaning woman of high rank. Female. Nickname: Rita.

Kalinda: See! (as in, check this out!). Aboriginal female name. Nicknames: Kali, Lin.

Selah: Possibly meaning to praise or pause and reflect. Female Hebrew name found in the Psalms.

Kai: Depending on the...

Writing Streak Week 3 Day 2

"In love" is my constant state

I am the moon

I am the moon

I am afraid of the Sun, shining in all her glory
My glow is nothing but a reflection of that beauty
Night after night, I follow her
I am a glimmer chasing a radiance I cannot touch

That blaze of a girl has pushed us all far from her
Barely noticing her entourage of forgotten hearts
We orbit her, the planets and I
The Sun has burned them
The Sun has burned me

She flickers and flashes, my famous fighter
That day-star draws us in with lonely arms
But not too close, for she is afraid of attachment
She lashes out to defend against our love
And now her flare is chasing us away

a random one-liner (inspired by ester dean)


if drums are the heartbeat of a song, then i will pound my fists into the ground to make a beat for you to dance to

I am the moon

I am the moon

I am afraid of the Sun, shining in all her glory
My glow is nothing but a reflection of that beauty
Night after night, I follow her
I am a glimmer chasing a radiance I cannot touch

That blaze of a girl has pushed us all far from her
Barely noticing her entourage of forgotten hearts
We orbit her, the planets and I
The Sun has burned them
The Sun has burned me

She flickers and flashes, my famous fighter
That day-star draws us in with lonely arms
But not too close, for she is afraid of contact
And a flare is chasing us away

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers can't hold the weight of its matter
Its lines are ruined by the bitterness of judgment
Destroying a poem's freedom is a sound so repugnant
It's not mechanical parts, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks; these moments of youth

Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
With the scent of bravery and also running to hide
It's strong as the scrap of faith we cling to inside
A force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved in a thousand-year-old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

Writing Streak Week 3 Day 1

Faith

Without Him, I'd surely be dead.

And They Danced #creativitytime

Sidney snapped her gaze to Ethan as Fireflies by Owl City began to play on the radio. An impish gleam came into her eye, and she leapt off of the couch and stood in the middle of the living room, staring him down like she was a lost boy from Neverland.
"Dance!" she ordered as she began to step side to side along with the beat.
"Yeah, that's not happening. Dancing is not my forte." He rolled his murky green eyes at her.
Sidney laughed. "Does it look like I'm any good at it?" She began doing a sped-up version of the macarena. When he stubbornly refused to move, she grabbed his hands and dragged him next to her.
"What kind of friend would let me make a fool of myself without joining in?"
Grinning outlandishly, she pulled him around until she was satisfied that he was dancing.
Ethan reluctantly began to shuffle along before giving in and dabbing while...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
Its lines are ruined by the bitterness of judgment
Destroying a poem's freedom is a sound so repugnant
It's not mechanical parts, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks; these moments of youth

Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
With the scent of bravery and also running to hide
It's strong as the piece of faith we all hold inside
A force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved in a thousand-year-old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

heartful

I wish that we were just a little bit closer
Yet I am the music, you're the composer
This song is nothing but an echo
My cry is a longing I know that you know

We are only together in the words I scrawl
It's hard to hold back from giving my all
When we are in person, standing together
To keep my tone a fluttering feather

I say I can find my words in poetry
That speech fails, but verse knows me
Maybe that desperate hope is true
But these lines never come close to knowing you

Q & A: Answers

From Samina:

1.Your favorite YouTube channel.
I rarely watch YouTube, but I like Katherine Steele and Sadie Robertson
2.Celebrity Crush
I don't really get celebrity crushes (honestly), but I am obsessed with Antonio Cipriano (he's a Broadway actor) because his voice is HEAVENLY and I guess he is pretty attractive too.
3. Your physical appearance
5'4". Female. Light brown eyes with maroon wire-rim glasses. Medium brown pixie cut with long bangs (?) on the right side. In the summer I get natural highlights and very subtle freckles on my nose. My skin is pretty pale with a slightly yellow undertone. I'm extremely thin, and I'm basically curveless lol. I used to have awful teeth, and I have braces that are working wonders. A friend once told me I have a Joker smile (which she said as a compliment, not in a creepy way).
4. Where do you stay?
I live in a small suburban town in northern California. Our main...

loveme


i know it's /not fair/ to want you to /love me/
so i /laugh/ and hold up my head
and i feel /content/ for a beautiful moment
it should be like that all the /time/
i try
it's probably /my/ fault
that /i/ can't
so /i guess/ this means /sorry/?

love,

~ me

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
Its lines are ruined by the bitterness of judgment
Destroying a poem's freedom is a sound so repugnant
It's not mechanical parts, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks; these moments of youth

Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
Smelling like an act of bravery and also running to hide
It's strong as the piece of faith we all hold inside
A force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved in a thousand-year-old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 5

my parents are sitting outside
playing a card game,
i don't know which one.
the sun is bright, and they are
happy.

#RengaChallenge! - 2

Sitting on my porch,
Thoughts rebounding in my head,
Cool breeze on my face.


I should be sleepy, but I am wide awake.
Impossible is becoming more than I can take.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
It's the things inside, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper

Harvesting mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks and a moment of youth
Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
It's every act of bravery and also running to hide
It's strong as the piece of faith we all hold inside
It is the force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved into a thousand-year-old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 4

Lights of the Dark

The tree in my yard seems larger in the glow of the streetlight
Darkness and shadows pierced by the unnatural radiance
I look up at the sky, and it is patchy with clouds
The moon desperately trying to send its rays through
These beacons shine, disrupting the night with beauty

i cannot complete you // destroyed

since i am not allowed to love you
since i can never sing your song

let me melt for you instead
i wish to dissolve at your feet

don't turn away as i
deteriorate into mere ashes

collect my splintered moments
keep them in your pocket

when i am nothing but glass
create from me a mosaic

use my passion as paint
let me be fuel for your art

i would not break for any other
do the honors of burying my heart

i; the greedy

why do i mourn a future that doesn't even have a past?
we never had a chance,
the story we had was told only in my dreams.

still i ache unceasingly,
cursing my tendency to take after angelica;
satisfaction is an elusive sprite,
mocking me with silver-sodden wings.
i will always sing for more.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
It's the things inside, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks and a moment of youth
Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
It's every act of bravery and also running to hide
It's the piece of faith we all hold inside
It is the force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved into a thousand-year-old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain
Poetry is love and fear and joy and loss of things we can't explain

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 3

There is nothing outside my window
At least, I don't think so
I know that it's sunny and warm
I got that from the weather forecast

I want to sit outside and listen to music
But I am just too tired

Q & A because I now have 60 awesome followers

Ask me anything! Whether it's my physical appearance, writing tips (oof idk how well that'll go), where I live (state, suburb/rural, etc), psychological (holland code, true color, temperament type, etc), my hobbies, favorite anything (warning: if you ask about my favorite book you won't get a straightforward answer {how does anyone choose}), or whatever. Ask away in the comments, and I'll make a new post sometime in the next several days with the answers. <3

You get to read poems and be thanked for it

So I reeeaalllly want to enter the poetry/spoken word contest, but I don't know which piece to submit. Would a few of you become my new favorite people by reading these next few poems and telling me which one I should enter? These two have each received three votes.

Poetry Is
She Is Beautiful

Thank you so much,

~ Anne

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 2

there is no one outside, just
the sun shining on empty pavement
i can't hear anything at all
my parents say our neighbor was screaming and i
don't blame him
is there anybody out there?

PLEASE HELP

So I reeeaalllly want to enter the poetry/spoken word contest, but I don't know which piece to submit. Would a few of you become my new favorite people by reading these next few poems and telling me which one I should enter?

Poetry Is
She Is Beautiful
Mountainsong
I have my best daydreams at night
At a hair salon on Butte House Road

Thank you so much,

~ Anne

Twisted

Sometimes I want all of this to be spoken in a sigh
But be careful what you wish for before it says goodbye
I'd die for closure for every rotten daydream
But sometimes your fantasies can turn into a night scream

I love like a lion, and I'm calling out for my own kind
But it's easy for a predator to make you lose your mind
My words can build a palace, a castle with a moat
But I have to step carefully lest they wrap around my throat

Just a random thing I wrote idk lol

You are my beautiful, so beautiful, not mine
You just made me love you more without your even trying
A simple word that dances around my loveless mind
A parody of better days between your every line

Repetition is the strongest chain

Seven months
Twenty-four days
And too many heartbeats
Have passed

Since I lost control for the last time

I made my final mistake where you are concerned
That error refuses to finish its wreckage

I love you

I've said it a thousand times
It just means something different
Than what you heard from it

Who am I to care for someone
Who feels every bit as deeply
For someone else

We stand on opposite ends of a broken river
I can't continue to burn this bridge to the ground

If I lost you
I don't know how I would remember to breathe

If you lost me
You would probably pick yourself up and sigh

I stand forgotten

Writing Streak Week 2 Day 1

There's a breeze drifting through my window.
It's not particularly warm outside,
but I live in California,
So it isn't cold either.

Last week you could see kids playing,
Defying the virus with their basketballs and bicycles.
Now there is no one.

I hear a dog barking,
but other than that
It is silent.

#CommunityChallenge Part 2!!!

I can't freaking believe it I got chosen again... so I get to shout out more people!!!

1. Deep_Breaths
You are a ray of sunshine and also my friend whether you like it or not. I love you and your writing so much. You make me laugh and cry and blush and feel literally every emotion. I'm so glad that I get to watch your writing evolve. <3

2. efflorescence
I am always completely blown away by your writing. Your way with words is absolutely unbelievable. Please don't ever stop writing, because there are a lot of us on this site that will probably (definitely) cry. <3

3. FoxLilly106
You are a master of storytelling. I love every piece of writing of yours that I come across (and let's be real, I stalk your account often enough to makes sure not to miss anything). On top of all that, you are so sweet and encouraging. <3

#CommunityChallenge

I adore literally everyone on this site, and I have no clue how I'm supposed to just choose three, but here goes.

1. The Campbell's Kid
On top of being an amazing friend, you have been so helpful on this site. First of all, you are the one who made me make an account. You were my first follower and my first submission for my contest. And, I am so proud to know someone who writes as well as you do. I'm never disappointed by the way your beautiful soul shines through your writing, whether it's poetry or prose. You have an incredible talent. <3

2. abi's pov
You have such a lovely heart, and it really shines through in your writing. I always enjoy reading your work, and I'm so excited as I watch you start to develop a style that's already becoming more and more amazing. Additionally, whenever I see that you've liked or commented on one of...

a karaoke machine speaks on repeat

I should be dancing in a field or stream
No longer thinking of you
I should hear a laugh that belongs to me
Not an echo of your view

I had never meant to just fall apart
Hanging onto guitar strings
I had held onto every break and start
It hurt me so that I could sing

If we didn't beg for different lives
And the silver lining didn't shatter me
If I finally told you love one more time
And nighttime didn't make it hard to see
If I strung a microphone through my veins
And my heartbeat speak a thousand tears
If I wrote a story where we could change
Would it ever bring your lifeline near

And They Danced

Sidney snapped her gaze to Ethan as Fireflies by Owl City began to play on the radio. An impish gleam came into her eye, and she leapt off of the couch and stood in the middle of the living room, staring him down like she was a lost boy from Neverland.
"Dance!" she ordered as she began to step side to side along with the beat.
"Yeah, that's not happening. Dancing is not my forte." He rolled his murky green eyes at her.
Sidney laughed. "Does it look like I'm any good at it?" She began doing a sped-up version of the macarena. When he stubbornly refused to move, she grabbed his hands and dragged him next to her.
"What kind of friend would let me make a fool of myself without joining in?"
Grinning outlandishly, she pulled him around until she was satisfied that he was dancing.
Ethan reluctantly began to shuffle along before giving in and dabbing while...

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 5

Girl has the worst stomachache of her life; thinks she's dying

Today, Anne Blackwood almost died. Well, she probably wouldn't have died, but she came very close to passing out.
It started when she could feel some gas pain in her stomach, so she tried to get into a more comfortable position. However, after a while, it got worse, so she went to the bathroom. The pain only increased from there. Her stomach was tensing up, and she was feeling indescribable agony. It was worse than any pain she'd felt in her life (and she'd experienced completely immobilizing cramps are more than one occasion).
When she screamed, her mom came in and held her hair back as she dry heaved at least ten times. Her vision was blurry, her ears were ringing, her hearing was muffled, and she was very dizzy, and the pain just kept getting worse.
Her stomach let up just long enough for her to crawl to...

Wow I wrote more than I expected #justoneq&a

1. What was the weirdest thing you've ever done as a kid?
I was a super chill kid, so I can't think of much stuff. I once watched my brother try to make Reese's with chocolate chips and peanut butter. It turns out that peanut butter can burn in a microwave.
2. Which bird in the area that you live in do you hate the most?
I freaking love birds, but sometimes there's a loud one that screams outside my window in the middle of the night.
3. I know what google says, but do you consider turtles to be reptiles?
I never considered this before. Aren't they reptiles?
4. What is the meaning of life?
To love God and share his love with others.
5. What do you think of soulmates?
I'm not sure. I do believe they exist, but I'm kinda foggy on what to believe about them.
6. How do you think you or your writing has...

Slivers of Memory #everprompts3

Tell me, darling, how you open up those twilight eyes
What do they know?
What have you seen behind my messy disguise
Which secrets show?

You have washed my resolve down a river
Saltwater tears mingling with your flow
The museum case I set you in has cracking glass

Breaking

My knowledge

Of you

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 4

Teen girl reads through old poems

And Blackwood, 15, is looking back on her 14-year-old self and cringing. The person that she wrote about so much has changed like the weather, and she can't believe she was fooled. Blackwood is glad that he never realized quite how much she liked him, but she winces when reading the poems of his harsh behavior. Some of the poems were salvageable, however, and she did end up posting one on Write the World.

Electrical #SmilesforSpring3

I've compared you to lightning before
Not really comprehending what I was writing
Now that I saw it in a spectacular magnitude
I see that
I was right

The way I fail to explain that mighty force of nature
Is just like trying to understand you
The lightning left me feeling like laughing, shouting, crying
For reasons I cannot decide
You've always had the same effect on me

What is water made of?

I never understood the term "hot tears" until that night
Liquid fire scalded my heart until it boiled over
But I burn no longer

Frigid like a racing mountain stream
My tears rush down the face of the cliff I climbed to find you
With shaking hands I wipe the moisture from my cheeks
Telling myself to be content sloughing through the puddles in the valley
I bathe myself in the river I filled
And watch our memories taunt me in their impenetrable canoes

Finally I decide that I'd rather drown in my own grief
Than have you never splash my way

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 3

Antonio Cipriano and gluten denial

Anne Blackwood has managed to spend an entire day listening to nearly exclusively one musical artist. Sources think they may have heard a single Alec Benjamin song, but that's pretty much the only exception to her Cipriano Craze. She denies ever having a celebrity crush (although that's getting difficult to believe), but she definitely has an obsession.
Additionally, Blackwood was too tired (lazy) to make herself lunch, so she warmed up an Arabic sandwich called manoushi in the toaster oven. She is not supposed to eat it, due to the gluten in the pita bread, but she says she could not resist. Her defense is that she has been very good about her food sensitivities lately, and it's only natural that she ease into this new experience.

Wordplay #120words

I can taste every word that leaves your mind
​Each syllable drips onto my tongue like honey
Sticking to the roof of my mouth and coating my throat
Dissolving distraction for a moment or two

So sweet, this ironic serendipity
A recipe meant for royalty
That I am bidden to partake in

I bask in the sunlight flavoring your eyes
And sing for the wonders I savor
A dance of whimsy spoken aloud
A exquisitely crafted expression of glee

Poetry Is #aprilpoem

Poetry isn't just rhyme or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
Not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, but a reaper
Harvesting mischief and truth
Whispers and a moment of youth
Poetry is time put into the word "trust"
Singing into every gale and gust
Poetry is a knock on a door in rain
Poetry is love and loss of things we can't explain

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 2

Girl styles countless outfits on app but lets her own appearance go

15 year old Anne Blackwood has discovered a new fashion app that she enjoys. She describes her experiences like so "I found this new app where they give you a scenario and you decide what the person should wear, which is fun and is similar to possible career options for me." Throughout the day, she can be found spending imaginary coins to help Sophie look her best at her job interview or assist Jess with a party outfit.

However, Blackwood doesn't seem to be putting as much effort into her own clothing. Leggings and a comfortable t shirt are her regular attire, and she had such a bad hair day that she turned her camera off during her online class meetings.

For other news, she is very tired and also misses her friends.

The Sweet Quirks of You #pov'sLovedandLost2

Sunday afternoons accompanied / by
Watermelon juice dripping down my chin
Eggplant / cast aside / in favor of
Eggnog and ice cream
Treating ourselves / popsicles / in the sun

Questioning the color of the sky / laying
Underneath a summer blue
Ink scribbles
Racing through a yellow field
Karaoke sung / at midnight
Surprises in the day

Orange soda left out / too long
Forgetting to care

Youthful dreams
Outlasting me in breath-holding contests
Unproductive in the / best / way

Uninhibited

I wish you'd wrap your arms around me
And not let go for fear of misread intentions
Only sending signals of sweet simplicity
An embrace of our inconsistencies

No need for a pair of pounding heartbeats
Or rapid movements of trembling hands
Only peace and silently spoken messages

a karaoke machine speaks on repeat

I should be dancing in a field or stream
No longer thinking of you
I should hear a laugh that belongs to me
Not an echo of your view

I had never meant for me to fall apart
Hanging onto guitar strings
I had held onto every break and start
It hurt me so that I could sing

If we didn't beg for different lives
And the silver lining didn't shatter me
If I finally told you love one more time
And nighttime didn't make it hard to see
If I strung a microphone through my veins
Would my heartbeat speak a thousand tears
If I wrote a story where we could change
Would it ever bring your lifeline near

We're Stuck At Home - Into The Unknown Parody

I can hear you but I can't
See you in person, just Hangouts Meet
This social distance is driving me insane
I'd like to leave but in my house I must remain
oh oh oh
Ah ah oh oh
Oh oh
Ah ah oh oh

Covid-19
People are acting foolishly
And they have bought all - the supplies
In a panic shopping spree

They're running out of toilet paper in every major store
The only roll that's left is being trampled on the floor
There's nothing to do here, except call my friends on zoom
If the WiFi starts to break then it will spell our doom

We're stuck at hooooome
We're stuck at hooooome
We're stuck at hooooome

I'm paranoid
And it's been keeping me awake
When I walked in the kitchen, my mom was bleaching all our eggs
We've sanitized every surface in this home
There's nowhere left for the virus to now roam

Every day's a little...

Distance

I'm missing you Not the earth shattering, passion, agony Just something missing

Writing Streak Week 1 Day 1

Local girl immerses herself in music to chase away the quarantine blues

Anne Blackwood, 15, has decided to treat every day like she's home alone by singing at the top of her lungs. Her family may be getting bored of Into The Unknown and No Good Deed, but her argument is that there is never enough Idina Menzel. She had also developed a mild obsession with Broadway actor Antonio Cipriano, and she has been listening to his Covid-19 parody of Ironic on repeat. Stay tuned to hear Blackwood cover more songs throughout the week, including titles by Sara Bareilles, Jake Scott, Alec Benjamin, and more.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

The only thing I want is for it to be over
For everything / I'm feeling / to stop being resurrected

I should be getting ready for bed,
But I'm falling / onto it / because I
Can't stop trembling / crying

This cycle keeps repeating / and biting / it's
Out of control / I'm out of control

You are lovely / not my / love
We're not biodegradable
We're made of / flimsy / plastic

I have a quote book and thought you guys might like some stuff

"Cling to life and SHUT UP!"
~ Me (to my brother)

"I heard 'I love to pee' and I'm like 'That's a weird pastime'".
~ By Any Other Name (my brother)

"I truly had the instinct to do jazz hands right then and if that doesn't say what kind of musical theater trash I am... I don't know what does."
~ Katherine Steele

"I was enjoying life as an only child for an amazing 90 seconds until you came along and stole my thunder."
~ Manifest (TV show)

"I feel like a wedding cake."
~ Jeff (my director)

"We're  going to San Francisco zoo . . . And you're taking pictures of the obese chickens."
~ By Any Other Name (my brother)

"'Aye aye, my Lord,' he said with enough sass to fuel a middle School."
-Home Siege Home (book) Eric Ugland

"If  you don't know love from God, you won't even receive love from the world, because you won't know...

Dropping Roses #Samina50

I'm following the trail of petals falling from your lips
Each time I try to hold one it withers away

I keep painting your happiness into my eyes
But I'm never the flower in your hand

My heart bloomed and grew
Vines of emotion wrapping around my mind

I'll try to be content with staying behind
Sink my roots into different soil

It's the way I know I should be
A dust-covered floret lost in time

Names, Names, Names

I freaking love naming things but some of these will be trash

A breakfast joint: Morning People Anonymous

A new smartphone: Andromeda X

An eyeglasses store: You'll See

A dog pound: Critters' Chance

A highway: Flat Earth

An island resort: Hoaloha (Hawaiian for friend)

A new constellation: Penna (Latin for feather)

A pet polar bear: Vitreus (Latin for crystal)

A nail polish color: Red Rebellion

A new butterfly species: Vanessa Audens; common name: Bold Blue Butterfly

Why do people think that skinny girls don't need comfort? #30WhyShouldwechange?

Is there anyone who notices?
The size 0 girls who truly aren't hungry
Stuck at the bottom of the charts

People look at statistics and wish they were me
What they want is to have my weight
But they'd return it once they noticed my figure

It's so beautiful, all these stories
Of curvy girls being comfortable with who they are
Everyone rallies around them and praises their worth
And I cheer for them

There isn't anyone cheering for me

If I take a picture from a bad angle
Or merely smile the wrong way
I don't even look female anymore

Skinny is not willowy or delicate
It's jokes that no one thinks are body shaming
Because we're on the wrong end of the spectrum
The be embraced for who we are

~ flat-chest girl

#42dreams CONTEST!!

In honor of my 42 followers, I'm going to be hosting my very first contest! And it's a weird one. You have been warned.

A while ago, I had a dream (which I will post with the title #42dreams contest prompt) that was oddly vivid and cinematic. I always thought it would make a great book or movie. Which is where you guys come in!

Prompt 1: Turn the dream into a short story. You can change minor details, but keep the essence of the story alive. You may also choose one part of the dream and expand it instead. What happens after the characters go under the Courtyard?

Prompt 2: Choose a character from the dream (for example: the old man, Solomon, or even me, because now I am a character), and give them a backstory.

Prompt 3: Write a poem about the dream from the perspective of one of the characters. Or, you can create your own character...

I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE 40 FREAKING AWESOME FOLLOWERS

THANK YOU! Thank every blessed one of you for deciding to click a button and make my day. I am so grateful for all of your guys' support. It means so much to me to know that all of you are rooting for me in that little way.

The Campbell's Kid
the.greater.odyssey
greenearth1
New York_dreamer
RogueRaider
soapsoup
Bear<3
-writinginhopesofsomeday-
Riley Noel
⋆ Aquarius⋆
Quille
poetri
dsharpe429
Writing4Life
WishfulKittyKat1
Danielle Lowenna
Carolyn Kreider
Briala Smith
V4Vendetta
bingbong
Annabelle Ford
SuperKewlKiwi
touch_the_sky
Ash Hayden
Ever L.
Crime_time
lonely_poet_bee
eyy bby
Jessica De-Acetis
Lola Fillion
a_myriad_of_stars_07
Bailamarie
An Uncertain Type of Decisive
V-Rose
WhiteMountains
Writers of the World
Wu.Z
CrazyNinjaKid
littyscoobydoo
FoxLilly106

Much love,

~ Anne

Burnsong

I'm gasping and holding my breath
And I'm crying out depth
Wishing and cracking
There's a "no-going-back" sting
Wrapping around me
Because love's never free
It comes with a price
Nothing will suffice
Not until this is over
And I finally find closure
I pay for laughter with tears
As I love through the years

No, I'm not blaming you
All you've done is stay true
To your feelings for another girl
Your heart's a precious pearl
I'll stay on the sidelines
Just pace between skylines
Wait for the finish
And my love to diminish
Why can't I leave them
These feelings I condemn
I'll be here on my floor
Until you walk out the door
Or my heart does the same
I can't give up your name

I Do: Neo's Lament #100

I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you

He does not
He cannot

You have always been my darling
Rarer than a four leaf clover
Delicate but tougher than nails
A butterfly born to burn the sky

I have watched you rise and fall and stand again
I was there when you danced for the first time
I am the one who made sure you knew you were beautiful
I have used my own blood to glue you back together

We were made to soar together
I dare the earth-boy to say otherwise
Before this fox tried to trick me out of you
We'd been marked on each other's hearts
So I challenged fate and its authority
Perfection is not made to be broken, because

I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you

He does not
He cannot

I do

the first half of a story that is not mine to tell

He makes me feel like I've never felt before
Hurt like I've never hurt before
Laugh like I've never laughed before

He catches me by surprise with his quirks and peculiarities
That laugh
Those dancing feet

He wields words like a sword
Or a bubble wand
Spreading elaborate thoughts like they're clouds in the sky

He has a way of seeing me in a way I didn't expect anyone to be able to
Knowing exactly what I need to hear
Saying it because it's natural for him to be kind

Burnsong

I'm gasping and holding my breath
And I'm crying out depth
Wishing and cracking
There's a "no-going-back" sting
Wrapping around me
Because love's never free
It comes with a price
Nothing will suffice
Not until this is over
And I finally find closure

No, I'm not blaming you
All you've done is stay true
To your feelings for another girl
Your heart's a precious pearl
I'll stay on the sidelines
Just pace between skylines
Wait for the finish
And my love to diminish
Why can't I leave them
These feelings I condemn
I'll be here on my floor
Until you walk out the door
Or my heart does the same
I can't give up your name

Laments of a Former Teacher's Pet

Why is it that I feel like I'm a disappointment?
Some people would die to have grades like mine
They spend hours hunched over a desk
And receive a barely passing grade

Things used to be easy for me;
Adoring elementary school teachers
Stuffed my head full of praise
I didn't have to work very hard to bear the fruits of others' labor

Now suddenly my brain decides to fog up
With emotions and restlessness
It takes me all day to finish work supposed to last an hour!
And I'm distracted to the point of tears

Still, I do well in my classes
And no one is frowning on me...
But I see one or two B's and almost give up
Because I'm cracking under the weight of knowing I used to be free

Burnsong

I'm gasping and holding my breath
And I'm crying out depth
Wishing and cracking
There's a "no-going-back" sting
Wrapping around me
Because love's never free
It comes with a price
Nothing will suffice
Not until this is over
And I finally find closure
No, I'm not blaming you
All you've done is stay true
I'll stay on the sidelines
Just pace between skylines
Wait for the finish
And my love to diminish
Why can't I leave them
These feelings I condemn
I'll be here on my floor
Until you walk out the door
Or my heart does the same
I can't give up your name

#SelfHateSelfLove - flat-chest girl - Prompt #3 - First entry

I don't look at fashion magazines
I mean, who reads real magazines anymore?
But I do look around
And I see pretty painted everywhere
Smiles and busts and perfect

I don't have a problem with my face
Sure, it's not stunning and it gets dotted with acne if I'm not careful
But it's not so bad
It's just that when you look like a guy when you wear a hoodie
And your pixie cut was the scariest thing you ever did
That's definitely a problem

You know those sweet guys
Who make the videos telling girls not to change themselves
Well they still turn right around and date that magic girl
Who is thin but still shaped like an hourglass
Or they went and got a plus size girl
Because curves are much more desirable than a stick

Don't get me wrong; I know I'm beautiful
I do
It can be really hard to believe that though
I stand strong...

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

The only thing I want is for it to be over
For everything / I'm feeling / to stop being resurrected

I should be getting ready for bed,
But I'm falling / onto it / because I
Can't stop trembling / crying

This cycle keeps repeating / and biting / it's
Out of control / I'm out of control

*sorry* here's another rant about being underweight

Is there anyone who notices?
The size 0 girls who truly aren't hungry
Stuck at the bottom of the charts

People look at statistics like mine and wish they were me
What they want is to have my weight
But they'd return it once they noticed my figure

It's so beautiful, all these stories
Of curvy girls being comfortable with who they are
Everyone rallies around them and praises their worth
And I cheer for them

There isn't anyone cheering for me

If I take a picture from a bad angle
Or merely smile the wrong way
I don't even look female anymore

Skinny is not willowy or delicate
It's jokes that no one thinks are body shaming
Because we're on the wrong side of the spectrum
To be embraced for who we are

~ flat-chest girl

#SelfHateSelfLove - flat-chest girl - Prompt #3 - First entry

I don't look at fashion magazines
I mean, who reads real magazines anymore?
But I do look around
And I see pretty painted everywhere
Smiles and busts and perfect

You know those sweet guys
Who make the videos telling girls not to change themselves
Well they still turn right around and date that magic girl
Who is thin but still shaped like an hourglass
Or they went and got a plus size girl
Because curves are much more desirable than a stick

Don't get me wrong; I know I'm beautiful
I do
It can be really hard to believe that though
I stand strong and remind myself
That someone will recognize my worth

But what if I am shallow and
Sometimes want someone to like me
And not in spite of this faulty capsule that surrounds my heart
Sometimes want someone to see me and say
"Wow, she's gorgeous."

Because I'm not
My girl friends can try to convince me...

Devoted

I haven't wanted to admit, not even in writing
That I wish I could turn my back on fate
Ignore every impossibility
Strike up a dance of sweet rebellion

My feet walk where my heart leads
I can't convince them to slow down
They go where you are
I'm terrified that if they don't I'll never relax

I want to fly next to you for the rest of our lives

Without my mind having a say in the matter
I have become bound to you, and I don't want that to be a sad thought

The grass is greener when you're standing in it
But when I try to tag along, it presses into the Earth, away from me
You imitate its actions even as you smile at me

It's kind of hard to breathe and that's not alright
I should be content because: you're not gone
Somehow I am not and I don't know if I can ever be

Devoted

I haven't wanted to admit, not even in writing
That I wish I could turn my back on fate
Ignore every impossibility
Strike up a dance of sweet rebellion

My feet walk where my heart leads
I can't convince them to slow down
They go where you are
I'm terrified that if they don't I'll never relax

I want to fly next to you for the rest of our lives

Without my mind having a say in the matter
I have become bound to you, and I don't want that to be a sad thought

The grass is greener when you're standing in it
But when I try to tag along, it presses into the Earth, away from me
You imitate its actions even as you smile at me

It's kind of hard to breathe and that's not alright
I should be content because: you're not gone
Somehow I am not and I don't know if I can ever be

A poem by new member Lola Fillion

The Idolatry of You

I sit under the tree
That 4 months 
3 days
And 2 hours ago
We parted ways underneath.
A tear falls 
As I remember what it felt like 
To be in your presence.
What if you were still here?
What if you are still here?

To read the rest of this wonderful poem, go check out Lola's profile.

Untouchable

I hear the sound of a bell and follow
Through evergreens and rivers of gold
Expecting to view something from the sky
And I found your voice
Rising through time and filling a mortal heart

You, my dear, are everything
Drips of stardust that made your way to Earth
Made your way to me

What About Me?

Do I look like a cloud that's just about to rain
Am I the open arms of sunshine that lights up all your pain
Does my laughter sound like a crashing wave
Are my thoughts visible for the things I crave
What do you hear when I laugh at flowers falling
Do you wish my ringing voice would stop all its calling
Can you fathom how my smile opens up and flies
Is it bothersome what you see when you look into my eyes
Do I make you want to listen or try to understand
Am I someone that can help you when you don't know how to stand
Can you feel my heartbeat or do you just assume
Tell me what you see when I walk into a room

She Is Beautiful

She is a mess of contradictions
"Opposites attract" written into her soul

When she speaks and her words come out skewed
She bites her tongue as if taming that rogue machine would stop the embarrassment
Then she usually laughs, because she's learned that it doesn't pay to stay serious

On occasion, she forgets and throws too many thoughts into a poem
But she to runs to her Father and is renewed

Her heart is not weak, but it can be fragile
She refuses to give up on those she loves
And she knows how to hold someone's hurting hand

It's not always easy, the way she tries so hard
Sometimes she begins to bend over backwards - in pain
But she's learning to walk with her head held high

She has music woven around the corner of her eye
Precious and imperfect

It's okay that she doesn't make sense
Messy and indescribable

Her smile will always continue to light the...

I Treasure You #126

I've spent a lot of time thinking about why you captured my heart
Maybe it's that carefree silhouette
Or the smile that fits your face like a piece of an IKEA table set
It might have something to do with the way your words roll over me in a tidal wave of enchantment
And the feeling of peace that always seems to follow you to me

I love it when you try so hard to keep me to yourself
The simple charm in our laughter
How we harness our awkwardness to work for our plans
I'd do anything you wanted if it meant that you kept dancing to the melody that only you hear
And nothing compares to the way you hold me together

I clutch so tightly the things you've always been
It's loyalty, despair,
                                l
                                    o
                                        v
                                            e
                                                ?

It's complicated
                            it's me
                                           it's you

Dropping Roses #126

I'm following the trail of petals falling from your lips
Each time I try to hold one it withers away

I keep painting your happiness into my eyes
But I'm never the flower in your hand

You belong to another garden
Despite your bouquets being met with an upturned nose

My heart bloomed and grew
Vines of emotion wrapping around my mind

I'll try to be content with staying behind
Sink my roots into different soil

It's the way I know I should be
A dust-covered floret lost in time

I Treasure You #126

I've spent a lot of time thinking about why you captured my heart
Maybe it's that carefree silhouette
Or the smile that fits your face like a piece of an IKEA table set
It might have something to do with the way your words roll over me in a tidal wave of enchantment
And the feeling of peace that always seems to follow you to me

I love it when you try so hard to keep me to yourself
The simple charm in our laughter
How we harness our awkwardness to work for our plans
I'd do anything you wanted if it meant that you kept dancing to the melody that only you hear
And nothing compares to the way you hold me together

I clutch so tightly the things you've always been
It's loyalty, despair, love?

It's complicated
                            it's me
                                           it's you

Laments of a Former Teacher's Pet

Why is it that I feel like I'm a disappointment
Some people would die to have grades like mine
They spend hours hunched over a desk
And receive a barely passing grade

Things used to be easy for me
Adoring elementary school teachers stuffed my head full of praise
I didn't have to work very hard to bear the fruits of others' labor

Now suddenly my brain decides to fog up
With emotions and restlessness
It takes me all day to finish work supposed to last an hour
And I'm distracted to the point of tears

Still I do well in my classes
And no one is frowning on me
But I see one or two B's and almost give up
Because I'm cracking under the weight of knowing I used to be free

this isn't a poem, it's a response

I'm shaking like a willow tree
Because I think that you probably know
I could never talk about it
So I'll just vent it all in writing

I scream silently in hopes
That you'll forgive me for falling
Because it was never your fault
It's just that I wasn't strong enough

This is me hoping that we can still last
I don't want to lose any of your imperfections
Their wobbling was always too lovely to change
But I understand if there's space now

And maybe I read too far into everything
My paranoia flourished
So I've given myself away

Either way, I have to write how sorry I am
In case this is a goodbye

After... After... After

Surrender

After being shocked into silence by a whisper from the sky, after searching for every piece of evidence it wasn't true, after staying up late wondering what it would be like, after chasing after old wishes like a sailor for a star, after convincing myself of my foolishness, after waking up (after a dream that made me shake with its meaning), after flipping through pages for an answer, after keeping my awareness more secret than a promise, after begging a boy to see his worth, after crying through more than one movie for reasons that don't apply... I blissfully serrendered.

it's not your fault but you hurt me anyway

to be or not to be
                            with you
it's easy; you
                            always knew
someone who's
                            the one who
is better than
                            what i can do
but i still
                            fall into
the fantasy
                            i drew

Enough

i
will
never
be
enough

i could hold onto the last shred of my strength
with everything in me
and still fall backwards into despair

that's why i need You
because You are strong when
i can't fight
anymore

You stand upon my inadequacy
and you lift me from the floor
because
You
are
always
Enough

your finish line

SI promise I won't try to hold you back
When you find love and step onto the race track
I'll stay at the start just looking at you
Step out of your way so you can find someone new
I will survive you leaving me behind
It's more than I hoped for, so I'll try not to mind

Ready
Set
Go
It's okay 'cause I love you more than you'll know
I
Don't
Know
I'll stay in love with a daydream if you'll stay in reach of me

Followsong

You're singing with your mouth full
And laughing at the seasons
You're dancing onto lotus petals
Smiling to give the stars a reason

I'm running with your river flow
And writing after your flying feet
I'm growing up and getting by
Hoping that you'll stay with me

i'm giving you my smile // try it on // help me

Is it okay to say that I miss you
Even though you don't care that much
Is it okay to say that I want you
Even though you're better without me
Is it okay to say that I love you
Even though I should leave you alone

I'm sorry that I'm not as strong as my feelings for you
It's kind of dark in here with all these memories
They tend to blind me to everything that I don't know
Whispering lies that I've earned you when that's selfishness

Endless nights of regret are worth your happiness

This is what it can be like to be an empath

It feels like I am alone
Alone with my emotions that aren't even mine
Debilitating pressure driving me into the floor
One person is sad and now I am suffering with her
Suffocating under the weight of a thousand thoughts I never had
Even when she's feeling better
I collapse at the sight of everyone else
Their negativity is exponentially worse when I feel it for them
It pulses through me and I can't sing anymore

My brother joined WTW

Hey, my brother just got an account here. He's the one who wrote that poem I posted a while back called "I found out that my brother's a poet" or something like that. Anyway, his username is By Any Other Name (a play of the saying about roses). Go check out his account, maybe give him a follow. You all know what it's like to be new here (heck I'm still pretty new myself).

The Malcontent

If I sat on on a throne of flames
And got drunk on the laughter in my ears
If sunlight filled every inch of my body
And I danced among flowers and freedom
If the whole world was presented to me on a golden platter
And you weren't in it

I would still feel like screaming when I closed my eyes
The tightness in my chest would start to infect my smile
My hands would shake forever at the sound of your name
And I would fall endlessly into pools of disillusionment

Every earthly joy is spoiled by your lack of being mine
They simply don't taste as sweet when your flavor isn't there
I know it's not fair to wish for things doomed to crash
But my heart did that long ago, and I'm still alive to dream

I Treasure You

I've spent a lot of time thinking about why you captured my heart
Maybe it's that carefree silhouette
Or the smile that fits your face like a piece of an IKEA table set
It might have something to do with the way your words roll over me in a tidal wave of enchantment
And the feeling of peace that always seems to follow you to me

I love it when you try so hard to keep me to yourself
The simple charm in our laughter
How we harness our awkwardness to work for our plans
I'd do anything you wanted if it meant that you kept dancing to the melody that only you hear
And nothing compares to the way you hold me together

I have my best daydreams at night

When the black of the sky reaches around my little world
When sounds of the spoken word taper into silence
When I am finally alone with the fairy in my mind

I close my eyes and release my thoughts
Let them fill my whole body
And dance around my room

A melody of a secret joy
Is played for just my own delight
My yearning for a future lost
Spills out of my hands to form a word or two

Simple love of freedom calling darts just out of reach
Teasing my imagination to race and spread my wings
My bed becomes a field on a mountain only I can climb
As I'm drifting off to sleep, I sail a boat through the ocean of my mind

Dropping Roses

I'm following the trail of petals falling from your lips
Each time I try to hold one it withers away

I keep painting your happiness into my eyes
But I'm never the flower in your hand

You belong to another garden
Despite your bouquets being met with an upturned nose

My heart bloomed and grew
Vines of emotion wrapping around my mind

I'll try to be content with staying behind
Sink my roots into different soil

It's the way I know I should be
A dust-covered floret lost in time

On Wednesday night I smiled

She lets me warm my hands by holding her arm and lying on her floor
And isn't that what friends are for?
He likes my pointy shoulders is what he makes sure I know
Or at least he tells me so
She says the same things I say exactly when I do
We're the same wavelength, it's true
He tells me the kind of person he wants to marry
And somehow that isn't scary
She tells me stories of her dogs' escape
And I tell her about a similar scrape

I know that this was jumbled
But so are we
So
We
Are

Holes #lovein2020

There's a hole in my jeans
It's not supposed to be there
It appeared one day
A small, unassuming thing
Now it's spread across my knee
Tiny threads trying desperately to
keep it together

There's a hole in my street
Roads are meant to stay strong
This one tried to hide its cracking pavement
People drove over it too many times
It couldn't hold against the constant
damage

There's a hole in this page
Some of the words are lost
The story unfinished
It's been held far too
carelessly

There's a hole in my heart
I didn't expect to find it
But it crept its way into my life
Growing until the webbing stretched thin
Straining against your hands
reaching inside

Dropping Roses

I'm following the trail of petals falling from your lips
Each time I try to hold one it withers away

I keep painting your happiness into my eyes
But I'm never the flower in your hand

My heart bloomed and grew
Vines of emotion wrapping around my mind

I'll try to be content with staying behind
Sink my roots into different soil

It's the way I know I should be
A dust-covered floret lost in time

Overwhelmed

I was engulfed in the darkness festering in me
Hope was but a distant cry swallowed by the shrieking pain
There was no power of my own that I could summon to save my life

When screaming through the night a song rose from within my soul
The Peace that resides in me exploded and pinned me down
He called my name and said "Come out! I want you."
Burning up my anguish in a proclamation of His glory
There was no room for isolation because the Son lit up my heart
His eyes are love that destroy my death and despair forevermore

I cried for help but my murder went unseen #onetrick(4)

Disclaimer: this tackles some serious issues and may make some readers uncomfortable. However, I still hope you will keep an open mind and read it.

Why, society, why?
You use my life and right to live it
As a pawn in a political game
You mock my torn and bloody remains
And say I'm only a choice

Why, science, why?
You ignore my beating heart
When I was but one strand of DNA
I was a unique and wonderful person
With the potential to change the world

Why, mother, why?
You treat me like a heavy burden
To be despised and disposed of
Like a product of dismay
You deny me the chance to run and dance
The chance to make you laugh

I cried for help but my murder went unseen #onetrick(4)

Why, society, why
You use my life and right to live it
As a pawn in a political game
You mock my torn and bloody remains
And say I'm nothing but a choice

Why, science, why
You ignore my beating heart
When I was but one strand of DNA
I was a unique and wonderful person
With the potential to change the world

Why, mother, why
You treat me like a heavy burden
To be despised and disposed of
Like a product of dismay
You deny me the chance to run and dance
The chance to make you laugh

Surrounded

I built up a massive wall of ice
With wildly shaking hands
But you melted each of the shards I froze
So I tried to make another plan

I fortified my barricade
With stone from front to back
But still you found a way to slip
Through every little crack

Next I tried to fight with fire
And buried my heart with flames
But all you needed to put them out
Was your voice speaking my name

In a final attempt to fend you off
I became a walking ghost
But when no one seemed to notice me
You knew I needed you most

Surrounded

I built up a massive wall of ice
Around my shaking stand
But you melted each of the shards I froze
So I tried to make another plan

I fortified my barricade
With stone from front to back
But still you found a way to slip
Through every little crack

Next I tried to fight with fire
And buried my heart with flames
But all you needed to put them out
Was your voice speaking my name

In one last vain attempt to hide
I became invisible to all my friends
But when no one seemed to notice me
On your steady smile I could still depend

Heart, standby

I've been distracting myself lately
Throwing myself into each entrance and then curtain call
The small wooden stage of a small, simple play
​Becoming a First and Only
Trying so hard to forget your effervescence
The light that I'm missing while I'm fabricating a life
Instead of living one with you

mountainsong - #romanticize

A mountain made up of strongwilled imaginings and
every wish I built
from the ground up
Hearts radiating laughter

Racing with the twirling zephyr
It carries me


A flower in my hair
A smile in my eye

Surrounded by an indefinite number of companions
It's a celebration
with five hundred dancing feet
Or it could just be me holding my favorite hand

Our minds alight
We breathe - life

Glancing back at them - I see a river of gold
and decide to chase it
through a forest of the noblest trees
I decide to climb the tallest one
just to watch the world turn

We could sit there
forever and only listen

There's music that defies words woven into the heart of
the land we're planting
It explodes out of our hearts
And sounds a harmony
Voices of laughter
Authors of delight

Captivated

You don't know it
But the words you say to me
Are stronger than a thousand delusions
They weave their way around my wrists
And when you laugh they just strengthen their ties

That halfway grin
Is a highway straight to me
Driving through my chest; I lock it in my heart
I am framing these bits of time 
Nailing my hands to the place where you laughed

Heart, standby

I've been distracting myself lately
Throwing myself into each entrance and then curtain call
Trying so hard to forget your effervescence
The light that I'm missing while I'm fabricating a life
Instead of living one with you

My Heart

My heart, my heart
The words that I keep writing are
My heart, my heart
These thoughts are stolen by a star
My heart, my heart
A beating dream that never dies
My heart, my heart
It's dragged away into the skies
My heart, my heart
Is thrust upon a tilting stage
My heart, my heart
I never wished for it to change
My heart

Holes #lovein2020

There's a hole in my jeans
It's not supposed to be there
It appeared one day
A small, unassuming thing
Now it's spread across my knee
Tiny threads trying desperately to
keep it together

There's a hole in my street
Roads are meant to stay strong
This one tried to hide its cracking pavement
People drove over it too many times
It couldn't hold against the constant
damage

There's a hole in my heart
I didn't expect to find it
But it crept its way into my life
Growing until the webbing stretched thin
Straining against your hands
reaching inside

Royal

I've been marinating a poem inside my heart
Reluctant to write
I told myself that I could never do You justice
I mean, how do you describe Perfection?

Then I realized
You don't
I can't

When beauty overtakes your life
Don't try to make sense of it
Just embrace joy and walk in Love
Get lost in the heart
of the King

Natural Disaster

Natural Disaster

Usually I love like a hurricane; a storm
All explosions and constant destruction
It's a disaster I can hold in my hand

This time it's different
More akin to standing ankle-deep in a tide pool
Peaceful and lovely

You're just standing and smiling and before you know it
You're gasping and feeling and nearly drowning
And trying to drink of land and sea

Darksong

I place each dream on top of the other
And you smile at me and remove the foundation
You're being yourself in the other direction
While my heart collapses like a game of Jenga

My pain pours out of my persecuted eyes
As I barricade my broken parts behind the bathroom door
Begging myself to put them back together

I open my mouth just enough
To attempt a release of this anguish

But I stay silent
So you still think I'm whole
Instead of wholeheartedly falling apart
For you

At a hair salon on Butte House Road

There is a very old woman sitting a few feet from me
She has sun spots and wrinkles and she must be 73
Her snowy hair falls like feathers from the sky
Reminders that she knows all of the best ways to fly
A mist showers over her from the water spray
It makes her think of laughter that filled her yesterday
Waterfalls and wisdom and dancing in the rain
When she was only twenty she set her heart aflame
She filled it with songs and around a thousand dreams
And when her smile opens wide, her face lights up, it seems
She paved her life with breadcrumbs so she could find her way back home
And now I've told her story while she held a sable comb

Natural Disaster

Usually I love like a hurricane; a storm
All explosions and constant destruction

This time it's different
More akin to standing ankle-deep in a tide pool
Peaceful and lovely

You're just standing and smiling and before you know it
You're gasping and feeling and nearly drowning
And trying to drink of land and sea

Untitled

All I wanted was for you to be happy
I told myself that over and over
I believed that it was true

But my love betrayed me
When I saw the evidence of your victory

Before I could read the light in your eyes
Mine clouded up
And my heart screamed and made my lungs forget how to breathe

Starsong

At 11 pm I made a somewhat selfish wish
That it could forever stay just like this
The rush of a stage and a theatre bright
Staying up terrified of opening night
Releasing passion and heart in a glorious note
Every pent-up feeling singing out of my throat
Laughing with castmates and referencing past shows
Sharing wonderful memories that only we know
The thrill dies as it finally comes to an end
But it burns all over as we do it again

my future is the same as my past

I'm trying to look forward
Because that's what the TED Talks and self-help books say I should do
Evidently those people have never felt this before

When I say "this" I mean the awareness that it's all for nothing
Every poem
    daydream
        cry
Is clandestine despair over something that never existed

So
Can anyone hold it against me if I occasionally constantly wonder
What would have happened
If it were me you'd known all this time

Maybe you'd view me in a different tone

Not ignoring my misfortunes
Just accepting me through them

But maybe not

the wind took his sister on a tuesday night

The wind whistled through the trees and into the living room. “We really should get that window fixed,” Leewana mumbled, twirling a shiny new pencil in her fingers.
“What was that?” Kai glanced up from his well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice.
“Oh...nothing…” his sister kept fidgeting with her pencil.
The wind decided it was bored with whistling and began to scream until it stopped. Suddenly. It had lost its voice. Undeniably.
“What was that?” Kai gaped. Leewana wandered over to the towering window, the gale gone into her windblown eyes.
Distracted, Kai got up to walk to her side, but he ended up toppling a haphazard stack of romance novels, one of which skidded under the sofa. “What? Was that…” Kai stooped to retrieve whichever book was the one that had been lost. When he looked up, Leewana was both in front of him and not there at all.
“Come! Join me!” she giggled.
“What was--” the...

Rays of Love

You keep chasing a sunbeam across the sand
While I just get sunburned trying to swim to land

Wordplay

There's "you" and "her"
Written all over my mind
Rushing around; two distant concepts

I know I'm just the space between the two
Significant but invisible to both sides

I found out my brother's secretly a poet

How much does love weigh can you count it in ounces, or pounds 
Can you measure the Stars trace the distances between them?

How much does love weigh, how long
does it last is it something forever or just out of grasp. 

Can you follow its reason it's logic its ways does anything make sense or is it all just a maze? 
Skipping through stars and marking the paths, wherever Love goes are we just tied to the mast of a ship that's sinking with nowhere to go, rushing down without reason in a spiral down into the thing called Love?

Do we fight it or surrender and just let go, take tentative steps or flee for it oh.

How much does love weigh can you count it in measures how much does love weigh in its infinite trails and are we all pulled by it and what it entails.

Simply Unordinary

There's nothing extraordinary about anything you do
I tell myself that so I can get over you

When you reach out to me and step with your heart
There's nothing about it that tears me apart
Those simple three words were trivial to you
So there isn't a reason to keep reading them through
It's my fabrication that you give off a glow
And it's definitely better that you'll never know

That every move that you've made in my sight
Seems perfect to me despite knowing that's not right
When I'm sitting by you or wishing it so
My miserable heart is always in tow

I found out my brother's secretly a poet

How much does love weigh can you count it in ounces, or pounds 
Can you measure the Stars trace the distances between them.

How much does love weigh how, long
does it last is it something forever or just out of grasp. 

Can you follow its reason it's logic its ways does anything make sense or is it all just a maze. 
Skipping through stars and marking the paths and wherever Love goes are we just tied to the mast of a ship that's sinking with nowhere to go, rushing down without reason in a spiral down into the thing called Love.

Do we fight it or surrender and just let go, take tentative steps or flee for it oh.

How much does love weigh can you count it in measures how much does love weigh in its infinite trails and are we all pulled by it and what it entails.

Wholehearted - A Song #Helpme2020

I don't tend, to give just a part
My love is like a, messed up work of art
And I'm not one, to hold back a piece
I'm giving you all, don't forsake me please
My head don't get, that this ain't a race
And when I fall, I kinda fall on my face

And I won't run, or hide this time
I'll just love you, beyond reason or rhyme

This is me
Loving, wholeheartedly
Wholehearted
It's not easy
Loving, wholeheartedly
Wholehearted
It's hard to breathe
Loving, wholeheartedly
Wholehearted

We've been through, some turbulent rides
But I throw myself, back into your eyes
The chips and the scars, are proof that we can
Run through the flame, let's prove it again
I can't promise, that we'll do it just right
But I'll say this, I'll always be by your side

And I won't run, or hide this time
I'll just love you, beyond reason or rhyme

This is me
Loving,...

Wholehearted - A Song #Helpme2020

I don't tend, to give just a part My love is like a, messed up work of art And I'm not one, to hold back a piece I'm giving you all, don't forsake me please My head don't get, that this ain't a race And when I fall, I kinda fall on my face   And I won't run, or hide this time I'll just love you, beyond reason or rhyme   This is me Loving, wholeheartedly Wholehearted It's not easy Loving, wholeheartedly Wholehearted It's hard to breathe Loving, wholeheartedly Wholehearted   We've been through, some turbulent rides But I throw myself, back into your eyes The chips and the scars, are proof that we can Run through the flame, let's prove it again I can't promise, that we'll do it just right But I'll say this, I'll always be by your side   And I won't run, or hide this time I'll just love you, beyond reason or rhyme...

The Lonely Mute

I'm no good at speaking anymore
The weights of my words are fighting a war
I can't breathe deeply for speech my tongue won't allow
All the notions I ever thought are dragging me down

Agonizing silence persecutes my wavering steps
Draining my ideas and there's nothing more left
I've lost every fragment of audible spark and feeling
Nothing but loyalty keeps people from leaving
I want them to stay but I know that's not fair
It's cruel to keep them for a conversation that's never been there

Everloving

There are questions you can't ask in a poem
Like how does it feel when you look at me that way
Poets have tried for centuries to describe
The connection between an everbeating love
And a free spirit

But none of them can determine
The taste of a consensual heartbreak

I watch you dance with a laugh on my face
Sometimes I let myself revolve my way around you
But every time I think for a second
I lose my footing again

The Lonely Mute

I'm no good at speaking anymore
The weights of my words are fighting a war
I can't breathe deeply for speech my tongue won't allow
All the things I ever thought are dragging me down

Painful silence persecutes my wavering steps
Draining my ideas and there's nothing more left
I've lost every scrap of audible spark or feeling
Nothing but loyalty keeps people from leaving
I want them to stay but I know that's not fair
It's cruel to keep them for a conversation that's not there

Farsong

Fifteen miles away
With your thoughts on other things
You pin me down

A pressure on my chest that pollutes my mind
Until it screams your name again and again
Dissolving everything else I should think about

Bare - A Haiku

If I tried to write
The opening of my heart
It wouldn't be so

Wander

I could get lost
Just taking in every simple detail

Like your asymmetrical ears
Or the way my eyes fall into yours

Following the curve of your nose
Or my heart down to its crash

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
It's the things inside, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Harvesting stories and mischief and a bit of truth
Whispers and fireworks and a moment of youth
Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
It's every act of bravery and also running to hide
It's the piece of faith we all hold inside
It is the force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved into a thousand year old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain

"if" is just two letters

If I am a tree
Then you are the woodpecker that makes itself at home
If I am a leaf
Then you are the wind that blows me away
If I am a smile
Then you are the wrinkles that tell each story just the way it is
If I am a pillow
Then you are the head that leaves an impression the whole day
If I am a bridge
Then you are the walking feet that slowly wear me down
If I am Icarus
Then you are the sun

Smeared

Scrubbing at the heart on my hand
Doesn't make it disappear, it just
Distorts
Into something uglier

And

Streaking my hands down the mirror
Can't blur the fact that it's
You
I'm seeing there

Darksong

I place each dream on top of the other
And you smile at me and remove the foundation
You're being yourself in the other direction
While my heart collapses like a game of Jenga

My pain pours out of my eyes
As I barricade my broken parts behind the bathroom door
Begging myself to put them back together

I open my mouth just enough
To attempt a release

But I stay silent
So you still think I'm whole
Instead of wholeheartedly falling apart
Over you

last night i drew a heart on the palm of my hand

Blood red ink is sinking in
Staining my white skin
Just like you have been

Everloving

There are things that you can't explain in a poem
Like the way it feels when you look at me that way
Poets have tried for centuries to describe
The connection between an everbeating love
And a free spirit

But none of them understand
The taste of a consensual heartbreak

I watch you dance with a smile on my face
Sometimes I let myself spin my way to you
But every time I think for a second
I lose my footing again

last night i drew a heart on the palm of my hand

Blood red ink is sinking in
Staining my white skin
Just like you have been

mountainsong - #romanticize

A mountain made up of strongwilled imaginings and
every wish I built
from the ground up

A flower in my hair
A smile in my eye

Surrounded by an indefinite number of companions
Maybe it's a celebration
with five hundred dancing feet
Or it could just be me holding my favorite hand

I see a river
and decide to chase it through a forest of the noblest trees
I decide to climb
the tallest one just to watch
the world turn

We could sit there
forever and listen

There's music that defies words
It explodes out of our hearts
And sounds like laughter

Breathe #bemine(3)

When you let out a breath
I draw it in
Just to have something that was yours
Hold onto it until I lose my head
Then release it back to you
With a piece of me
But
You still don't want it

The Story That Rewrites Itself Without My Consent #kickoff

I'm trying
to tell a story
But the beginning won't write

So I try to start at the end
But it never stops

Every time I think I'm done
I realize you're the only one
Who makes silence not lonely
And you're the only

One

I tell my heart to stay inside
So I can keep you close
and not lose your arms around me

It never works
It never has
My hands are not strong
They tend to fall into yours

Tenure

I've always been the kind of person
To plan and play it safe
To feel deeply but keep it under lock and key
Make sure I don't make
Any of the wrong moves

I know that sometimes I miss out
On the best things
Life has delivered to my door
Because I'm so dang scared
Of ruining things

And then you smile at me
I never felt so free
But it's not that look in your eye that's affecting me

You've got tenure
And when my heart falls, it falls
Head first
The miles we've driven are driving me crazy
And I know the vision's hazy
But you've got tenure

Uncharted

It was the year I started on the path that wasn't one
A paved trail meandered off into a forest
Where the sky changed color

It was the year a mistake made itself
But I didn't think it was so bad
I never chose to take the step
Old feelings just didn't want to die
They fermented into a new thing

It was the year I found a place to relax
I thought I knew better, but it turns out you did
The thoughts that fluttered into my mind never crossed yours

It was the year a seed was planted
I tried to bury it down,
down
Because I caught a glance of a map of future complications

It was the year I discovered that friendship is better
But Cupid's arrow has many casualties
Your hands pulled me along
And I decided it was alright
As long as you didn't know

It is the year that the future has come ...

Silenced - A Haiku #ArtOfCompression

There's a song trying
To scream its way out of me
Just echoes escape

Confessions of someone who accidentally fell in love

It shouldn't have happened
We were going so strong
In our beautiful way
It was simple and tart
Never lonely, just happy to be
You and me

But I went and ruined it
I realized I was back to wanting more

And it's better that you don't know

Because even though I love
The day a star came down to meet me
Stars should stay up
                                        so
                                                      high
And not crash to Earth
Just to pass a bird
On the way down

Now to Then

I am mostly a poet

Now I am more confused than ever. And more at peace, too. I worry, but I know - Who is with me. There are about a hundred different choices flying at me in the wind. And something to hold onto.

Then I knew there was healing. It came with a touch. An instant. And I noticed my path. Disease disappeared off of two backs. The fog cleared.

Then I felt my feet walk onto a stage for another time. And they left for a hospital. I sank into a confused state of constant waking sleep.

Then I was so tired. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. Everything was inside a mist. No one knew what had happened to me. Doctors and friends shook their heads and sighed.

Then I found out there was cancer. It attacks the ones you never expected to fall. "Mom" means strong and imperfect and always there. My God, my God. Help me.

Then I realized...

You

You

You who used to smile for my eyes to see
You who danced with me
You who made me walk with fairies

You

You who fades quickly into a dying sunset
You who pines after a heart
You who has better things to do

You

a cry to help

Why
Why don't you see
That I am not a thief

I hold out both my hands
They are empty
Waiting for you to fill them

My ears are not covered
They will listen to you
And understand

I have my heart
It is not strong
But it is honest and fierce

You don't need to hurry
But I have waited
so long
And I only want to
help
Just
let me
please

not-quite-there

We were like a ghost flower:
Hauntingly beautiful and not-quite-there
not-quite-friends
not-quite-more
Flying on shadows and the memories of moonlight
Magic
And swept away from the quiet promise

Of forgetting

not-quite-there

We were like a ghost flower
Hauntingly beautiful and not-quite-there
Flying on shadows and the memories of moonlight
Magic
And swept away by the quiet promise

Of forgetting

Silenced - A Haiku

There's a song trying
To scream its way out of me
Just echoes escape

Antidote

i drink in your words
swallowing them down
one
    after
        the
            other
like they can save my life
like they're the antidote

as far as east is from the west

I can't decide
If I feel like throwing up
or crying
When I realize how much I missed
While I was on the other side of the world

I know it's not my fault
And it would have been worse to watch
Perfection as it

fell

apart

But it doesn't remove the knife next to my heart
That's making it a little hard to breathe

Unfocused

i'm trying to focus
but my mind won't obey
it keeps listening to my heart
the loudest voice
shouting pointless facts and falsehoods
and they take up my thoughts

Breathe

When you let out a breath
I draw it in
Just to have something that was yours
Hold onto it until I lose my head
Then release it back to you
With a piece of me
But
You still don't want it

Poetry Is

Poetry isn't just rhyme schemes or iambic pentameter
The gears and levers aren't what matter
It's the things inside, not ones and zeroes; something deeper
A poet isn't a scientist, they're more like a reaper
Ofstories and mischief and a bit of truth
Of whispers and fireworks and a moment of youth
Poetry is the years that make up the word "trust"
And the singing that drifts in every gale and gust
It's every act of bravery and also running to hide
It's the piece of faith we all hold inside
It is the force that drives the waves in the sea
And every knot carved into a thousand year old tree
Poetry is a knock on a door in the mist or rain

Star Wish

Writing a Star

There's so much more about you
That I am unable to write
And my mind fights to put into words how you
Waged war on my senses
With subtleties too hidden to do justice
It's as if I have tried to tell about an entire galaxy
But only succeeded in describing a
Single
Burning
Star

Open Prompt

I Don't

I don't know why I
Want to write about you
I don't
want to
And I don't like you
I don't
I guess that's what this one's called
I don't

I don't need you
I don't have you
I don't know you
I don't hate you
I don't see you

But I do feel you
I do find you
I do hold you
I do trust you
I do love you

Just
Not like
that

Vivid - A Haiku

Oranges and reds
I'm bombarded with colors
Screaming, bleeding out

Star Wish

Writing a Star

There's so much more about you That I am unable to write   And my mind fights to put into words how you Waged war on my senses With subtleties too hidden to do justice   It's as if I have tried to tell about an entire galaxy But only succeeded in describing a Single Burning Star