Posts tagged writing poetry

let’s keep dreaming

Before we spent hundreds of sleepovers together, there were games of musical chairs and run rover; we were children together. We were awkward adolescents tent camping in your backyard so your parents wouldn’t bother us, we peed in the woods, we used your tennis rackets to see if we could swat bats out of the sky. Youth was effortless, wasn’t it? We used to dream about the future like it was this exciting place we’d finally get to someday – adulthood! And now here we are, and look at us. The greatest joke between us is that all we do … Read the rest

vanilla

The things that used to scare me were the ideas that I was under private investigation, or I would be ambushed, or I would be punched in the face.

Now, I’m scared that my life is being wasted one day at a time while the things that are second nature to me are banished from my existence.

I always knew you were vanilla, but I never thought you would be cold.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: private investigation, second nature, and vanilla.

Photo by Orissa Humes on Unsplash

against all odds

That we even met was against all odds, despite my name being there in the trees in the town where you lived. You drove by my name for years — “It’s a sign!” — but now the trees are dead, and will soon be gone.

I swear to myself I’ll be picky in chasing the new love of my life, swear to myself that next time I won’t compromise on my needs. I’ve been doing somersaults to just get you to want me; it’s backbreaking work, and I’d like to be done now.

It hurts to not feel … Read the rest

disappear me

Get me out of here has been on my mind quite a bit these days. The urge to just get up and run out the door. I wouldn’t take a thing. Bags unpacked, purse abandoned, phone smashed, I’d run.

I’d speed down the highway heading west, hitting the low shoulders as I pass on the right, I’m in too much of a hurry for rules, as I’ve always been, and now it’s time to live my life.

But first, I have to find it.

Who the fuck am I?

Who the fuck am I to think I can just run … Read the rest

just another closed book

You wondered why I’d become so comfortable with not cuddling as much, not hugging as much, and I said it’s because now I can count on you like clockwork to be here, to come home to this bed.

Had I known the time was coming when your affection would be doled out in limited supply, I would have taken more when I had the chance. I would have held your hand on the couch every day. I would have rested my hand on your leg as you were driving, I would have hugged you from behind as you stood and … Read the rest