There will come a time,
When daisy’s dance
and blades of wind
Will cut through the sky,
Singing a tune
Only you can hear.
Freelance Writing & Editorial
There will come a time,
When daisy’s dance
and blades of wind
Will cut through the sky,
Singing a tune
Only you can hear.
A new day
A new year
The world is upon us
The possibilities endless.
We all lie in wait
With promises galore
And a sea of wishes
Upon our very tongues.
A cheerful symphony
Of laughter
Of cries
Of a
5
4
3
2
1
HAPPY
NEW
YEAR
And may this one be filled
With dancing stars
And smiling moons
And a sunrise to
Greet every beautiful day
And sorrowful storm
To bring upon a year
Of new beginnings.
The past now just that
A past of memories
And growth.
A year to never forget
As we bid it farewell.
Goodbye 2020
A year of
Riots,
Politics,
And a horseman run
Rampant.
Hello 2021
May you usher us into
Wisdom,
Health,
And understanding.
Falling down a rabbit hole
Watching from afar,
No way to intervene.
They tumble and they stumble,
I wish this wasn’t it
Rock bottom never seemed so scary
Until you watch another come
so close
Their eyes squeezed shut
The obsidian abyss
Encompassing
Mere light a fantasy
high above their head
Hope now shattered.
I love the way you call me from high above the starry sky.
A green beast.
An angry beast.
A large, hideous beast.
What’s this thing that
presses from the inside out?
Suffocating,
stomping on the lungs.
It knocks out all the
oxygen, and it fills the
bags full of a mist.
A thick,
slimey,
green mist
that comes out in clumps
with every breath.
How does one stop
the beast from rampaging?
How does one stop
the beast from taking over?
This beast,
this hideous beast,
with the name
Jealousy.
I toss my gaze to the window, squinting the tired blear from my eyes. Old street lamps sit along the sidewalk, their lights stretching to enter this dark room. I curl my body forward, sitting up and removing the arm of my unknown night guest. My fingers curl around a large T-shirt; theirs or mine, I’ve not a clue.
My Keurig whirs to life in the kitchen and my senses awaken as my tired limbs carry me towards the machine. The scent of heavenly coffee drifts to my nose, wrapping around my fogged brain; I hold the filled mug close to my face, watching as the steam rises, telling the secrets of last night.
Why is it you
enter my thoughts sometimes and never
leave?
As if you are thinking of me, too.
You know,
they say that
if one can’t sleep,
they’re awake in another’s dreams.
Why is it you
disrupt my sleep as if
you still have a hold of me?
As if we still have anything
to do with each other
When that’s a pretty false
statement.
Through the ups and downs,
we go through life,
with heads held high,
basking in the sun
or
dripping in the rain.
Trying to find a path
only our own gaze
can follow.
Walking down a road
of our own making.
Twist and turns,
skips and hops.
This is our life.
This is our making.
Did you go to the party? I
Heard Brian was there. Mr. Marx is
Collecting the essays he assigned last
Week. Everyone
Was there. Even Sarah?
I’m so glad it’s almost break. Are you ready
For the game on Friday? The
Cheer team has to
Wear leg covers since it’s getting
So cold now. Mr. Marx is a joke.
Did you see the video? She’s
Actually showing her face. I
Just bought these sneakers.
Oh my God, look at her face! I
Didn’t know someone
Could drink that much. Dude,
I’m not ready for this Anatomy exam.
Gross!
Did you see the way she’s
Looking at
Him?
What a great night! That’s what
Brian said, too.
Hey Sarah, looking good.
I forgot about the Essay.
I keep my secrets to myself. Jumping, skipping, hopping all around, the knowing grin curling my chapped and cracked lips. Soft, melodic notes reverberate against my vocal cords; all is right in the world, but I know.
I know I can only keep the charade going for so long. What I release on those lined pages of the leather-bound notebook, tucked away beneath my pillows are far worse than the monsters under my bed.