Everything was so beyond wrong
We still don’t know if we’ll ever set it right
But we were young and wild and free
And once in a while we felt that old spark,
The one that said the best is yet to come-
If Depression conducted traffic
The way it controls most other things
People wouldn’t judge my driving nearly as much
You see, it’s not me. It’s Depression.
But I can’t use that as a valid excuse-
Honestly Officer, I didn’t do anything,
Depression was behind the wheel all along.
Depression is a teenage cry for attention,
Not a diagnosis that garners sympathy casseroles
Even though I didn’t eat last weekend
Cause I couldn’t get out of bed for the life of me.
If Depression managed medication
With all the strict precision with which
It regulates chocolate cravings maybe
My body wouldn’t…
I see you in dated Polaroid frames chasing after a new girl,
Younger than me and prettier than me, her eyes sparkle
And thanks to you, mine carry the weight of a soul’s death
Her smile screams I have nothing at all to be insecure about,
Not a worry plaguing my heart- you’ve yet to snatch from her
All the happiness, the hope, and whatever else you stole from me
A blink of an eye later, it’s like you never waltzed through my door
So right now I’m sitting all by myself just like I always wanted
But I still…
With the grace of a queen
My mother lowers her creaking body
Into the same old wooden throne
At the same old kitchen table
Just a second later she sighs,
Breathes heartbreak the color of the ocean
But somehow it fades to gray
Invisible tears fall on unforgiving cement.
With a hand resting over her stomach
She hovers as always, the best of mother’s do
She breathes in the lilacs, violet, lavender
When promised herself the cancer wouldn’t win
She didn’t anticipate victory taking so much of her
This precious thing no longer a part of her
Out of use…
Long nights I spent with forever at my feet
And the knocker at my fingertips
I couldn’t close the distance, I was too scared
Of your door. I know you never want to see me again,
And I’m alright with that, I swear I am.
Sometimes when I think of you, I recall
Every second with you was me begging
For what you were never willing to give.
And I’m finished with it. So forget me,
Forget the promises I made to you,
I will not spend the rest of my life
Searching every pair of eyes in the room
I was bleeding out, a crimson stain on a cream carpet
With a hand under my sweater you kissed it better
And still, you looked at me like I was precious.
At that moment, all I could think was, “I’m done for.”
Because to love someone is never a safe endeavor
And I don’t do well with those risks that take all of me.
I thought I knew you well enough, I guess you never know,
I guess when you open your soul like a canvas waiting
For another person to paint in new colors- it shows.
If I believed…
When I showed you the place
Where I became a paper doll
I never expected you to
Become an eraser just for me
I didn’t think healing was possible,
I thought scars were evergreen
Because love certainly doesn’t
Drive the long haul for girls like me
But here you are after 1000 years
For some reason still right here
If ever left me I don’t think I’d mend
But I heal all over again
Every time you give me that smile.
Here is a poem I wrote in response to re-reading The Hate U Give after the murders of George Flloyd and Breonna Taylor sparked national protests. Before I wrote it, I reflected on how the BLM movement has evolved greatly and spread to include a much broader base and combine social media activisim with real life work in the past few years (since Angie Thomas published the book) but the situation has not changed very much at all. I then included historical references in my poem such as the 3/5ths Compromise and the 13th Amendment (side note: if you haven’t…
A million diamond icicles cascade to the ground.
In a final moment to enjoy their faded glory,
They vanish into the breathless grace
And I am left to watch them die.
In the cold, I feel so alone.
Tonight is a cloth made of midnight velvet,
And in spite of myself, I let it remind me
Why I came to love this place so much.
The story of a body, who it belongs to, and who dictates its uses. Your first (unofficial) preview of a much longer story, this is the beginning trimmed down to 1,800 words.
Out of the blue on a lazy Saturday, a call reaches her and a friend convinces her to swing by her cousin’s house cause it’ll be fun. So, later on, Aubrey DeGuinn lays down her reluctance and goes to hang out with the people her world revolved around when she was a full-time student. Her friends hug her warmly when she walks in the door but then the…
I write poetry, prose, and personal pieces. All images are mine unless indicated otherwise. Feel free to leave feedback on my work anytime; I hope you enjoy.