Being In Love Feels Terrifying

Love is beautiful;
All warm and giddy
But what about everything else?
The fear and adrenaline from your body?

I’m not saying love is gross
I’m in love too.
That’s why I am writing this poem.
To ask a question to never be answered.

Love is stressful, dont lie.
Each day you see the “Love-of-your-life”
Everything feels tense, your mouth is dry
It’s dry but watering.

People will ask you
“Will you ever tell them?”
Or It could be worse,
Will your secret be leaked?

Love can be a scary place;
But once you are ready
And your gripping the wheels of confession tight;
You can get the hang of it

Threadcatcher

It’s funny.
How I never thought you would see me
in the window.
How it seemed
you’d just pass by
I’d just pass by
the world
would just pass by.
It’s funny.

It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one.

It’s funny
how so few things got stuck in the cracks–

but I don’t think either of us ever thought
about the things stuck so deep into them
that they can’t be pulled out.

Didn’t you once wish being enough could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish nothing could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish everything could be enough?
You wished for a lot of things
but I wished for more.

It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one–

but you didn’t care about the cracks;
you cared about me.

We Were Marbles

The woods beside the school used to be our kingdom
the cedar needles were crowns, the
clearings our conquered cities
the raised storm drain our stage
we were marbles
swirl of colors on the inside
covered by translucent glass
wide-eyed, supposedly delicate but truly invincible
you could see right through us

but one day
the forest was chopped down

we disappeared
rolling
into the tunnels under the storm drain
it was dark
on we rolled
we couldn’t control the downward motion
our sheer, smooth glass kept us tumbling down
into the depths of the sewage

when I emerged
the rest of the marbles were gone

maybe they were still lost in the tunnel
their glass hadn’t hardened, and they were
still rolling
maybe they had come out the other drains
they’d taken a wrong turn
or maybe the right turn
maybe they’d cracked and broken while inside

sometimes you’re the only one who can
piece yourself back together

i’m not a marble anymore
my glass has turned to rock
supposedly invincible but truly delicate
you can’t see through me, but neither can I
sometimes
but I think my swirl of colors is still inside

no one can stay a marble forever
no one can live forever

rocks aren’t round and
wide-eyed like marbles
but they each hold different shapes
and they fit together
in puzzles

there are more marbles
there are more rocks

we all find each other
eventually
we keep breaking
we harden our shells

even outside of the tunnel and apart
we’re pulled by constant downward motion

because the nature of a marble
rock or glass
is to keep rolling.

Star Catcher

Star Catcher
There was once a girl who
spun silver shining silk threads
brightly,
up to the stars
and tried to rope the moon
into her own orbit.

Far away, far away,
bright lights shone
she
drank moonlight from a silver goblet
and breathed hope into being
as a fire, as a
light.
She
struck a match and
lit each star like
a candle.

Brightly,
each tiny candlelight
in the sky
shines
she
strung her silver thread
across the stars
drawing out the constellations
drawing a circle in the sky.
A star catcher
drawn by the light of the night
darkness
couldn’t extinguish her.

5 Ways of Looking at Grief

5 ways of looking at grief
(after Wallace Stevens)
1,
The chains that collapse my chest
Fill me with the poison
Of fear,
And regret.

2,
The peace that clouds my mind
The sweet, blind bliss
Of denial.

3,
The tears that hold me,
Deep in the night
Running down my cold cheek
And stabbing me
In my tired heart.

4,
The past love
Still lingering
It runs deep in my veins
And keeps their memories near.

5,
The skeleton key
Twisting the fragile feelings
Gracefully woven together
In my weak heart.

Fall

The wind flows by whispering secrets of the forest where I now walk
Telling me stories and songs of people who once lived here
With a blink of an eye a gust of wind sends leaves flying
Slowly floating down like a dream
It feels like magic arms wrap around me welcoming me home
A piece of me that was missing for so long now
Completing the puzzle that is my heart
Here is where I truly feel at home here is where I belong

Where did he go?

Then he awoke.
He was very apprehensive about it,
about you.
He didn’t know if you would even attempt
to ascend to the top,
But you did.
It was a very tiring ascent to the top floor
of the old bloody mansion
wondering
if it will be worth it?
You were close.
There were only,
Ten
More
Steps
On the blood splattered stairs
To get to the attic
Then out of nowhere
there he was,
he gave you a baleful look
as you reluctantly climbed
the rest of the way.
Step
By
Step
One second he was there
then he wasn’t.
Where did he go?
No one knows

Thinking About

I’m thinking about
CARROTS
And how their crunchy NOM
I’m thinking about
Flowers
And how they smell sweet SNIFF.
I’m thinking about
Snow
And how its soft and fluffy STOMP
I’m thinking about
Turtles
And how cute they are AWW.
I’m thinking about
Dance
Because Sloane and I’s performance is 3 days
I’m not thinking about
Babies
And how demonic they are CRAWL.
I’m not thinking about
LEVI
Because why girl staring at me? 😭
I’m not thinking about
Wren
And how she replaced me 😞