i stepped on a puddle and drowned
and my head is underwater and i’m looking around
and all i hear are familiar sounds of wind chimes and children so
i sing and pretty bubbles come out of my mouth
and i think one of the most beautiful things just might be
spring breezes in the summer
warm breezes in the winter
serendipitous surprises just because
just because you are who you are
and, love, this is all you ever needed to hear
orange lullabies and bedtime stories we still hold dear
and the sparrow chirps back when its babies call
the flowers dance even as the nights they fall
because someone out there just maybe, really knows
how this story was meant to go, yet
that doesn’t stop us from hoping, holding, making wishes
turning just any other dandelion from weed to wings as
the spring breeze blows even as far north as we are.
and ice-cream and stickers that glow in the dark
and animal hats and cake and wandering stars
still do sing, truly. so he takes her hand, truly.
and i think this just might be one of the most beautiful things
this life this love this everything in the everyday this
just because you are. you are.
How long is it going to be like this?
Until things change.
Will they? Change?
How do you know?
Everything’s always changing.
And she’ll be okay?
We’ll all be okay.
A Collection of Poems and Words
i wanted to write lyrics with these flowers
and thorns and stars you’ve tattooed across my arms and my chest; but maybe these thoughts and feelings are too scattered for song. so maybe i’ll write these uncaged words instead.
i ran into something unbelievable last winter.
it came into our lives in the fall. and it grew and grew. and by winter, it was so huge, that the whole world had to morph and widen and brighten to fit it. this morphing, and widening, and brightening was a journey filled with light and dark, learning and growth, hope and doubt, dreams and rude awakenings, shock and wonder.
these poems and lyrics and words are a documentation of that journey.
a journey through love, lies, and other things that exist.
as soon as we grow up, we get labelled.
stamped, dated, labelled.
birthdate. time. place. weight. height. worth.
an arbitrary name we have no choice in, yet it becomes
something so intricately woven into everything we do
for (usually) pretty much the rest of our lives
as we grow, we accumulate more and more labels
school. program. skills. talents.
derogatory terms. categorizing terms.
brands we wear, bands we love.
our personalities end up being boxed into these few labels
some others stamp on us. and some we stamp onto ourselves.
and that’s what we become.
enclosed and contained within our own selves,
taped and packed and labelled.
aahh, stumbled upon one of my old poems from when i was about fifteen or something~ ^^
stop squinting and looking into the far distance
what you can’t see
you [don’t think] of
look at what you can see
what’s here with you now
look up at the sky
breathe in the wind
don’t search for meaning [beyond the horizon]
stay in the here.
look at the now.
to your feet.
look to the side.
m e y o u
[everything is here.]
yes. im not leaving (yet).
i’m here (for) now
in my head
think of what i didn’t do yet
of what i will be thinking of.
when i go.
yes. i will be –
no. “will be” is not “now”.
i am staying.
“n o w.”
i am staying beside you.
you are here
everything is here.
she reads a lot.
but novels, not so much.
she likes poetry because poems are often not about
tim or tom or daisy or doll
they are about you.
it’s like reading a song where you get to pick the tune.
and in these books, she found pieces of herself.
which was something so dear to her.
because so much of her was lost.
when she was young
she wore her heart on her sleeve
and gave out pieces of it to others
but they broke those pieces and left her
and now she had these holes in places she couldn’t reach
and if only band-aids could fix a broken heart