I didn't want to leave you hanging though with just an update and I did promise some of my poetry so here it is! A couple of my favorite poems that I wrote in college. I have them complied into a collection that I hope someday I can publish. It never hurts to dream! So check them out and leave any comments and thoughts below. If you really like what you read then share my blog please!!
Puzzle
Piece
did you
ever wonder where you fit in?
How
your puzzle piece fits into the whole?
Sometimes
I feel like my puzzle piece
has
fallen off the table.
The
missing piece that no one
has
even realized is missing yet.
It lays
on the floor right
under
the table,
as
others work hard with all
the
other pieces fitting them
into
their place.
They
work with the pieces that matter,
the
pieces that make up the edge
of the
image.
While
my piece is one of those
annoying
middle pieces
that
isn't touched till the very end.
It
doesn't make up the image.
It's
one of those filler pieces,
a solid
blah color
like
black or blue
part of
the sky or night.
A piece
that just blends in
no
different from the other sky pieces.
It's
one of those pieces that
is
easily mistaken for another,
which
is why it remains
forgotten
on the floor.
The
last piece to be remembered.
The
last piece to find its place.
Avoiding Daylight
She
awakes to the feel of the cold
against
her warm exposed skin
sending
shivers down her spine.
She
turns away from the threatening day
retreating
to the inside of the bed
where
light can not yet reach her.
She
knows its almost time to rise
hearing
her alarm clock tick away
her
last few minutes to lie in bed.
She
shouldn't waste her time like this
but
she can't force herself to move just yet.
She
hates this part of the day where
she
must force herself to awake
and
begin the monotony that has
become
her life. Each day becomes
a
little bit harder to climb out of bed
a
little bit harder to not just lie there
just
for a few more minutes.
As
she hides from the sun, which slowly
becomes
stronger with each passing minute,
she
wonders what the point is...what is she
doing
with her life? Each day she wakes
and
follows the same routine the same schedule.
All
excitement that might have been had vanished
consumed
by responsibility and chores.
The
only time her life promised any new
or
exciting change was at night when
she
could retreat inside the world of her dreams.
Her
dreams were the only place where she could
let
go,live out what she really wish could happen.
Morning
ruined all of that, forcing her back to reality.
Morning
was the enemy of her dreams.
Forcing
her away from where she was happy
back
to a place where she had nothing to live for
but
what others wanted her to do. Her alarm clock
sounds
its fifth attempt to drag her out of bed but
she
ignores the call hitting the snooze button
for
just ten more minutes of the dark.
The
sun now covers her bed reaching its
full
peak and she knows she can no
longer
hide from its beckoning call.
She
knows she must begin her day.
realizing
that there is no point
she
can't put off her day any longer.
Her
alarm clock sounds for the sixth
time
and she begins to rise. Slowly
trudging
out of bed to face the same
old
routine that is her everyday life.
The Walk
Thump thump thump. Listen to the heartbeat. Ringing constantly in
your ear. Squish squish squish. The shoes hit the pavement. Rain
splashes on the back of well worn jeans. Ripped and torn. Frayed and
jagged. Pieces missing where jean should be. These pants have seen
many walks. Many steps taken. Over and over the same miles. Again and
again. Each step,Each heartbeat. Thump squish thumb squish. It's a
lonely walk. More time to think all by yourself. Cars pass by. Cars
speed through red lights. Brakes squeal as drivers abruptly stop.
Zigzagging, rushing to nowhere. Splashing the water from the curb on
whoever is near the sidewalk. She doesn't mind a little water. The
bottom of her jeans are soaking wet. Why not the rest of her? Yes
please soak her head to toe. Cover her in dirty curb water. Filled
with leaves and cigarette buds. Whatever trash someone decided to
throw out a car window. She loves the feeling of wet cloth against
her skin. Clinging to each nook and cranny of her body. Showing every
flaw, every roll of fat she may have. Jeans soaked rub against each
other, on the inside of her thighs. Rub them raw. Stain them blue.
She doesn't mind. What's a little pain? It'll be gone by tomorrow.
Start the walk all over again. Lose a little more jean. Soon they
won't be pants. They'll be floods. Up by her ankles. The part that
made them pants long gone. So ragged and frayed, they fell away. She
doesn't mind. These are her jeans. They are good for now. Dirty and
torn but still. Long enough to cover her shoes. In the front anyway.
She doesn't care about the back. If she doesn't see it what does it
matter? What she only sees. It's what matters. Pay no attention to
the cars passing by. The cars that don't stop. Won't stop. If they
don't see it doesn't matter. Right? Thud collapse. Tires squeal as
they abruptly. STOP.
And as an added bonus here is a picture or 2 of what I looked like at the time this poetry was written in 2010
And as an added bonus here is a picture or 2 of what I looked like at the time this poetry was written in 2010
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