Category: permission

Fernando the Frog caught in a jar came from afar.
I let Fernando go when he frowned his little Frog frown.
I hope Fernando hasn’t gone commando.

 

Corey, Casey, Mary, they all smell like imposters when strangers try to pronounce my name.
But my name, Carey Beth, smells like Niagara Falls and an Irish farm.
My names tastes like homemade chocolate chip cookies warm, fuzzy and sweet.
My name sounds like a rushing wave of mystery and winter.
My name feels like a warm blanket wrapping around you and then dropping you in the deep, cold ocean.
My name looks turquoise and bright, shining with possibility.
I am a perfect day interrupted by a sloppy, eager, happy, awkward mess.
When I cry I am a raging hurricane
When I laugh I sound like a thunderstorm
I am the loudest person in the room
I like myself
I’m worth a lot
And you can’t tell me that I’m not
Because you can’t see inside of me

 

Bright lights
City nights
London
Crown and jewels
Fancy shoes
London

I am from soccer balls,
from soccer fields,
and video games

I am from the smell of shocking peppermint

I am from training,
from strength,
and from love

I am from pecan trees
and poinsettias

I am from Boston baseball
and from striking hazel eyes,
from Jacob and Gabby

I’m from crying in emotional movies
and waiting for the winning goal to be scored when Barcelona plays,

from “Never stop!” and “Strive for greatness!”

I’m from Hail Mary’s
and Glory Be’s

from the death of my grandfather

I am from the hallways
in the back of my house
where the pictures on the walls
desperately
want to be looked at.

They hold the haunting
memories
of what once was,
tomorrow.

 

My family is like the ocean
My mom is the water, without her theres no ocean
My dads the sand hes soft to the touch and always the first thing you love
My sisters the shells they are easy to catch but sometimes hard to be found in one piece
My brothers the island far in the distance, because hes already off on his own
And im the waves lapping into my familys lives I can be big or small bit im always there.

I’m in your backpack!
You’ve checked everywhere but here.
Sixteen texts, seven calls, four FaceTime’s
I’m lonely in here
It’s dark
I’m hungry
I’m bored
Woah! You picked me up.
I hear you sighing softly
Is it because you lost me?
“I’m here!” I want to shout
But I know you can’t hear me.

 

I am from brushes and rubber bands
from dark chocolate
and powder sugar

I am from the white house that sits upward

I am from playing games with my brother
from moving to a bigger house
and from the brown chair my mom reads in

I am from the pink flowers
and the butterflies

I am from the dinners on Wednesday
and brown eyes
from Noah and Mila

I am from the tamales on Christmas
and the beach in the summer

From I love you and good-bye

From Santa and the Easter Bunny

I am from mom with many dogs

from tacos and enchildas

from Killer the fluffball

I am from the top shelf in a little
book filled with my fantastic family

 

My family is a pencil pouch
My mom is the pouch, she holds us together with love
My sister is the colors, bright, silly and funny
My brother is the sharpener, always there when we need him
My dad is the pencil, always trying new things and always by my side
I’m the eraser, keeping positive thoughts and erasing the bad ones away

 

In the night, you toss and turn
And sometimes dreams that burn
But even then, you still have dreams
that sometimes make you beam

 

A fire burning,
flickering
dwindling,
extinguishing,
leaving weary people in a endless tide of nothing.

The cold consumes the warmth,
chasing it away.