NaPoWriMo
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You never see it coming,The things that hurt the most. But then again,The best things that happen in lifeCan be just as surprising.
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Yes, I’m a Swiftie. Yes, I did stay up until midnight for the new album. Yes, this poem was written while listening to this album and my feelings and thoughts as I sat down for the meeting of The Tortured Poets Department. If that bothers you, keep scrolling. I have been waiting for this day
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This piece I wrote in reflection of my sister’s 21st birthday. Yes, she did actually turn 21 on April 18th. I thought it would be a nice time to reflect on what it felt like for me, as the oldest sibling, to watch her turn 21. That first drink,Her first legal drink.It is crazy to
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It won’t stop running. No matter what the doctor gives me, My brain can’t quiet down. So many thoughts fight to be heardI can’t focus on just one. Self-medicating. Someone suggested it. But with what? I guess it could be worse. So you light one up, You inhale, Deeply. It takes a few minutes for
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A man and a woman can walk into the emergency department with the same symptoms. The man can say it isn’t too bad. The wife made him come in.He will get taken seriously,Meds ordered and a consult placed. The woman can be in tears, The worst pain in her life. They will just send her
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At some point you will have to choose. Choose between what you knowAnd what you deserve. If you are being asked to choose, What you knowWhat you want to keepIsn’t what you deserve.
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The hardest thing about moving onIs knowing that you can’t see that personYou can’t hold that personYou can’t be with that person anymore. Even though for so long you thought they were your everythingThey turned out to be your nothing.
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The white siding is fading,The stained glass looks a little dirty,The steps could use a good power washing. That little church in the country, The place I felt safe, The place I always wanted to be, It’s crazy how different I feel now. It’s not that I lost my faith,It’s that I lost the ability
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The hot summer sunThe weight of the gear The sweat smell from the helmet.The things you love about the game. Most people call you crazy, Who would want that extra heat? But for you, It’s the perfect way to play. Evaluating the entire field. The batter stepping up to the plate.Down into position. Glove in
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Dark, cold, and silent.That’s what you would find if you walked through my heart.It isn’t fully of happy memories.It isn’t warm and bright.You would think you were deep inside a cave.Over there is the first time the abuse happened.Keep going, and you’ll see how it evolved. From little comments here and thereTo part of a
Lyrical Logic 