My pieces always rather short;
even my words fear they take up
more space than need be. 

She always seemed like such a senseless, worriless girl wishing upon fallen eyelashes, blown dandelion seedlings dancing in the wind, birthday candles and 11:11, twice a day. I never understood why she did these nonsensical things. As if the position of an eyelash or a dandelion would magically fulfill her desires, or how wishing on the twelve hour clock, a human invention, or blowing out all the candles in one blow could somehow change her life. I never understood until later on, that this girl, one who always seemed so happy, was clinging onto hope the only way she knew how; believing in things she knew to be false but clinging anyways for the mere possibility of a happy ending.

Always worried about looks until I finally didn’t
and then,
I finally felt pretty.

Just pretty, not beautiful.
Beautiful has lost its meaning
and should a boy ever call me
beautiful,
I’ll have to have him clarify.

If beauty only means
what my outer appearance shows
then he most definitely isn’t
the boy for me.
 
I finally found my beauty
and that is my kindness,
my curiosity,
my contagious energy
and who knows what other traits
this boy may unearth. 

Adventure

It’s always about far away lands
and cultures unknown
for how could anything exciting happen
so close to home. 

Timidity

your eyes make 
me shy

Is such a cute saying, 
Saying that I like you
and each time you look my way
my heart can’t stand to look at you
for false hope that you might feel the same.

But this is my way of saying
that all pairs of eyes
no matter who they are
make me shy,
make me afraid
of how judged and inadequate
I truly am. 

We are but an
unwritten story
full of possibilities
with little chance
of any seeing light. 

I rely on
the butterflies
to guide me through
the lovely wood whence
my feelings are held prison. 
However misguided,
like a fool
I follow them
knowing not what else
to trust. 

Why can’t love be like honey?
Always golden, sweet
and best of all: eternal. 

Mirage

What I thought were flowers
were but the leaves
changing seasons.

My teacher has assigned a project on whatever topic we want! Anybody have any interesting/creative/unique ideas? :)

Love: A Definition

With time your novelty expired
but my feelings for you never did.

Aroma

Your breath smelled
like oil of the winter green
—methyl salicylate
but that isn’t as poetic—
it reminded me of winter:
the bristling cold, the gusting wind,
and the snow capped conifers;
entirely uninviting 
yet strangely captivating. 

Swimming in black waters;
sleepless nights,
no time to rest,
seriously on edge,
eyes blazing,
fangs bared,
sacrifices must be made.

Awaiting Impact

A streak of blaring light
had never been so evil in intention
like a deer in the headlights
we could only stare
as the mesmerizing beacon
spelled our doom. 

Unveiled I now am
from the mist concealing
my once energetic self
I no longer know
how to contain
all that I now feel.