I am a picture book with faded colour
I’m a show that ran 3 seasons too long
We are the battered library books, once fresh and new
Now torn and ripped, unusable
We are the fruit left to rot in the bowl
We are those they say they nurture
While they crush our souls.
An “A” student
I’m a mess,
My works pass due,
I spend my time studying,
Home, bus or school
My head is full,
I’m trying my best,
I throw my knowledge down,
All this work just for a class test.
Life can be hard, like sitting on a school chair all day.
Life is like a blur, as the days merge together.
Life is like loneliness, when your mother isn’t around.
Life can feel like you’re having a stroke, when someone close suffers from one.
Life is like mud; you’re stuck there forever.
I am the blue cornflowers buzzing with bees
I am the flock of birds flying overhead
I am the golden gleam of the sunset against the sea
I am the feeling of opening your new favourite book
I am the joy of singing with your loved ones
I am the scent of a summer breeze wafting through your window
I am the glow of home on Christmas Eve
I have a dream that we can always feel these things.
Picked Up, Put Down
I am the book on the shelf,
I am the title that draws people in,
I am the words people read,
I am the pages people get lost in,
I am the characters that people pretend to be,
I am the love story people inspire to be,
I am the ending people constantly think about,
I am the book on the shelf again.
Painted by people of kindred,
Broken down by spite and sorrow,
Paint comes to reveal,
A new colours never seen,
Spirits high, soaring high,
For a new beginning has begun,
To heal, to fly, to soar
The Joy of Being Alive
Friends, family, music, dogs,
Christmas, art, chocolate frogs.
Games, books, beds, school,
Ocean, cats, swimming pool.
Tea, coffee, poems, plays
Flowers, nature, rainy days.
Woods, walks, movies, chats,
Makeup, clothes, more cats.
Not a moment or thing exists to me without its restrictions
From putting my left foot first into every room
To the same Technoblade videos before bed
From the petting 1 dog to the other
To only using specific-coloured pegs on the line
Three letters that feel alien
These are the rules that keep me safe
But they change like the leaves each season
How long will it last?
Love will beat you and destroy you before it is required.
Love will leave you angry and wishing to seek revenge
On those who win at love without having to compete.
Love will burn and drown your memories of happiness
Hoping this will allow room for love to be requited.
Love will leave you despaired, feeling empty,
Feeling as if something has been taken
From you even if no one ever gave it
To you in the first place,
Simply because you
Gave your love away first.
I miss us.
Not the us last month or even last year,
The us 3 years ago.
The us that had our whole future ahead of us,
Seemingly never ending.
The us that could talk about anything for hours,
The us that I fell in love with.
That us is gone now,
And I don’t think I’ll ever see it again.
We exchanged late nights and early mornings
For messages left unanswered.
For questions left unanswered.
Do you miss me like I miss you?
Do you regret how things have gone?
Did you ever really love me?
You still say it to me sometimes.
“Goodnight, love you!”
I remember when we were still us
And it was still 3 years ago
And that love you still had an I before it.
Was it disappearing an indication
That we were falling apart?
After all, you fell first
But I fell harder.
You moved forward as I stayed back,
Trying to stay afloat in all that was us.
All that was us, each other’s first,
Each other’s person,
Each other’s everything.
You’d think that it would be impossible
To move on from that,
And you’d be right.
All day she laughs,
keeps in the tears of everyone’s sneers.
It keeps her up at night.
But when she sits at those keys,
And forgets all the sadness,
Her feelings flow and confidence grows.
She can finally feel her madness.