O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes?
We are not of one mind. Are not like birds
in unison migrating. And overtaken,
overdue, we thrust ourselves into the wind
and fall to earth into indifferent ponds.
Blossoming and withering we comprehend as one.
And somewhere lions roam, quite unaware,
in their magnificence, of any weaknesss.
But we, while wholly concentrating on one thing,
......
I’m dancing with death nearly every other day, yet in love with the way tomorrow tells me everything is going to be okay.
I cherish my brokenness that is still me to this day, and will continue to be thankful for those who gave me a reason to stay.
I miss the old me, but not in a regressive way.
It's like slowing down when I pass the house I used to live in.
Except old trees have been replaced with new, and there's a welcome sign on the front porch, and even one hanging on the back door, too.
I remember my bedroom and the fits and funs it held.
Laughter that echoed through the hallway and silent meltdowns in my closet.
One wouldn't know from the street view, but the walls are freshly painted with a new tone of the sky’s Blissful Blue.
......
Remember the 1340's? We were doing a dance called the Catapult.
You always wore brown, the color craze of the decade,
and I was draped in one of those capes that were popular,
the ones with unicorns and pomegranates in needlework.
Everyone would pause for beer and onions in the afternoon,
and at night we would play a game called "Find the Cow."
Everything was hand-lettered then, not like today.
Where has the summer of 1572 gone? Brocade and sonnet
marathons were the rage. We used to dress up in the flags
......
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
......
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
......
Boyhood was a one-night stand,
So brief and unforgettable,
Full of dreams,
Sweet —like a rooftop party,
Wild and loud,
When the world several feet below,
Full of envy, shouted at us,
“Come down quickly!
Quick!”
Boyhood charmed me and
......
dear diary . i am turning twenty . there is nothing that i want , but to go back home .
to the village i grew up in , playing with friends , socks pasted with dirty sand . i am
not in despair , i spend my time thrifting clothes , jewelry that fits the color of my skin ,
footprints that i follow as i walk outside . i am full of sliver , tattooed on my skin , left
arm filled with bruise . i feel bad as i look at myself — how i ended up looking like a fool .
cigarettes tasting good as it never did like before , cherry wine ; i swallow it , like a glass
of water that i consume when i was seven . i see, an orange cat in the wild . i want to be
free just like it . running , feeling the breeze , sun being paired with my pale skin . i do not
know what to do . i do not want to turn twenty . i am scared . take me back to being a kid ,
simply enjoying the life that i never knew i had of me .
......
I’m dancing with death nearly every other day, yet in love with the way tomorrow tells me everything is going to be okay.
I cherish my brokenness that is still me to this day, and will continue to be thankful for those who gave me a reason to stay.
I miss the old me, but not in a regressive way.
It's like slowing down when I pass the house I used to live in.
Except old trees have been replaced with new, and there's a welcome sign on the front porch, and even one hanging on the back door, too.
I remember my bedroom and the fits and funs it held.
Laughter that echoed through the hallway and silent meltdowns in my closet.
One wouldn't know from the street view, but the walls are freshly painted with a new tone of the sky’s Blissful Blue.
......
Where is the girl I used to know?
The one that wasn't always on her phone,
That could make a friend wherever she may go.
What happened to the temper tantrums she would throw?
This new girl, I don’t think I like very much.
She doesn't like the way she looks, and she doesn't know who to trust.
She doesn't like to talk to strangers and only will if she must.
She’s left the younger version on a shelf to collect dust.
......
I turn on the shower and my thoughts quiet to a whisper.
I start to undress as I ease my brain's exert.
My eyes avoid the mirror and I step into the tub.
My mind starts to wonder while reality falls out of touch.
I try to clear my head and focus on being present.
I re-feel shame for granting permission after his ceaseless exhortation.
My musings recall his unwanted hands on my skin.
My body stiffens in distress and the trauma floods right back in.
......