Sleepless still, Not much has changed since my girlhood: Late nights and longer sleeps That drag well into the next day. Lunch is breakfast, Dinner is lunch. Rush hour is 2AM, The hustle and bustle happening in my brain As I scramble about the house, Writing stanzas and washing dishes. Bothering the boys in the…
Gardening. Solace can be found in the mud, Your hands in the soil– Uprooting and rerooting– Pulling weeds can be like pulling teeth. Why are you so afraid to blossom?
I can’t wait for school to start So I can dissolve into heaps of studying; So my brain can expand, Rather than caving in onto itself– Thinking and overthinking– Until ideas become mush And memories become clinical dissections.
His heart opens with me Though, their hands pair perfectly: A love triangle.
A baby monster: Young and naïve still—yet, wise— Rising like the moon.
“We all succumb to something,” I wrote, “Be it life, love Or heartache. Something consumes us in the end.”
I wake up late. Change into an all black outfit, slap sunscreen on my face and wrap an emerald scarf around my neck. My first bus is late– but it’s always late and I’ve made it a habit of catching the one at 7:44am knowing it will arrive at 7:57am. I run out my house…
Single dose Powder pouches of Soothing lemon flavour– I’ve been drinking drugstore remedies To cure my common cold: Cough syrup, honey, And tea made with acetaminophen; There’s no real food in my stomach, Just healing liquids That put me to sleep and give me Nightmares.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. –Maya Angelou