A chipping green bench

sometimes I grope for words
and laugh at myself afterwards. 
(because I’m supposed to be a writer, aren’t I?)
other times, I sit on the chipping green bench
and pretend to stare at the birds
while I tap
tap tap
inside my head and live a different life. 
I let words and colors drench me
(chrysanthemum, holly, periwinkle)
as I suffocate under the rules. 

because I am not uniform—
I am the beads that fall from a loose necklace,
a swarm of thoughts and starry nights,
the weeds that grow under your house and up 
your walls. 

how do you tell someone 
that you dream because you want to escape?
because this little, broken world is not enough,
and we’ve already begun to burn.
 

GreyBean

CA

17 years old

More by GreyBean

  • untitled #2

    i am learning to live without the idea of you

    and i am trying to fill up the empty cave 

    in my head, the one you created when you 

    fell to the ground and pulled me down with you. 

     

  • And So I Refrain

    she talks to me about the paper snowflakes she plans to make this weekend, and so i refrain from telling her that my bedroom has been decorated since the day after thanksgiving.