Writing

It‘s said there’s only

two things

certain in our lives

death

and

taxes

How can we be certain of death

until the day we are dead?

How do we know that we’ll die

if we are not dead yet?

It’s alright

It’s fine

It’s 11:11

the luckiest minute

of my life

So don’t waste it

Hold on for just a minute

and remind

yourself you are

alright

I need to write. 

God, do I.

It's been days, with no click of the keys

to write out simple stories, poems, words

things that will never see the light of day

but I still love.

I grew up in a world that taught me I should be "Ladylike"

My grandparents tell me "Well that's not very ladylike."

My parents say, "Why do you act like that."

What is ladylike?

I told my notebook about you 

She used to love you, the girl I used to be 

Now she can’t even remember the last time I said I was head over heels for you 

It melts as soon as it touches the palm of your hand.

You watch it fall down from the sky as if it is the first time you have ever seen it.

It brings back memories from when you were little.