Poetry

Us. Our two souls, separated for years upon years, then collided out of nowhere. Without a second thought, I began talking to you. Something ignited in me. Something like the flame of a match in a dark room.

Let me float

In a sea of poetry,

Words weaving my hair,

Verses like seawater

Trickling into my heart

And lapping against the shores

Yearning is a feeling I feel quite often. Sometimes I can’t even put my finger on what I am yearning for. There is always something I feel a longing for.

I have a place

A place just for me

A place where everything from the day spills

And when it spills, it…

Pours across the dark wood desk

Flows and takes control of my pencils

Spills onto a paper

The name “learning voyage” is quite deceiving.

We don’t voyage like ancient Hawaiians,

Nor do we learn new skills.

Instead, we go to rock quarries and plant new trees.

Fran Lebowitz is exactly how you would imagine her.

My mom keeps talking about soliloquies. Unfortunately, her and I are at a standstill.

I should've written it in pencil

I should've known it couldn't last.

Should've told it to a page in an in-between

Far from permanence.

I should've written it in erasable graphite

Should've whispered it to no one

When I lean against my grandma 

On the green couch 

She talks about things that used to be 

Does that mean 

When I’m her 

My grandkids won’t understand 

Everything you do is acceptable

We stand with open arms

At your next word

There’s an imaginary red carpet

Laid out for you in the halls at school

Your hair was always beautiful,

Long and luciousous,

Everyone always loved it. 

But then you cut it off. 

Long strands fly away to the floor,

While you're in the bathroom, 

Closed door. 

golden like the sun, 

blooming in the spring, 

till they turn to fuzz, 

flying in the wind. 

what our parents call weeds, 

what we called flowers when we were young.