A Book
I write more then I read.
I like the way the keyboard sounds.
How my headache fades.
How focusing on something so simple can be so fun.
I write more then I read.
Why read a book when you can write one.
Allow It
Weirdness is only originality with a twist. You decide to wear vibrant colors others might not, then someone likes it. The process repeats itself. Now you have to find a new way to stand out. Cause the world stole your style.
Left Over
He cares,
He rubs my back when it hurts
He holds my stomach when its aching
If you ask me about my day…
I’ll say…
Good.
Why?
I woke up to a "good morning" and left over "goodnight".
Junior Life
I´m nervous, time flies faster than you would've ever expected. Senior year is less than a year away. And then college is next, then ¨real life¨. Yet real life already started. I´m in fact alive and have emotions and I do in fact breathe. I have lived, and I'm real. Yet I have not been introduced to the ¨real world¨ but I have to make a really big decision. Decisions. I have to pick a ¨real¨ major, get a ¨real¨ job, earn ¨real¨ money. I have to create my ¨real life¨. Yet I´ve not yet graduated into the ¨real world¨
I Remember...
I remember very little.
The hard snow cooling me down,
Sitting in the fetal position.
I think I blacked out.
I don’t remember turning myself over,
I don’t remember hitting the front of my head.
I remember swaying but sitting still.
I remember being asked if I cracked my helmet,
I don’t remember my fall being that hard,
But I do remember it hurting.
I Want It
My whole life I've wanted a love like my parents. Something real that lasted a lifetime. They met freshman year of high school and started dating that year, in fact only a couple of days later, and they are still together. My mom tells me the same story about the first time they saw each other, she would swear to you that it was love at first sight. Each time she tells the story it gets more into detail, and my father still blushes.
I’m only a junior yet I’m lucky to say I’ve created my own love story. Different from my parents, but I hope they both end the same, happily ever after.
Chicken
I was taken,
Kidnapped.
Thrown in to a coop,
Laying on the ground.
Cold,
Alone,
I scream for help,
No one comes.
Dragged out feeling no pain.
A knife to the throat in my attempt to escape.
Gasping for my last bit of air.
I wake up.
Back in my bed.
Surrounded,
Sweating.
Beating
My heart feels like a drum.
My stomach like a piano,
You kept tickling the keys.
Your words like a song,
Light through the air.
Texts
“Good Morning” can simply make a girl feel special. Opening their phone not knowing what they will see, and “good morning” glows on their face. Butterflies arise, the sun isn't even up yet.
Falling
When you fall asleep it’s quick and you feel like you're sinking down a dark hole. Yet when you fall in love it’s slow, savory and you feel like you flying. Yet falling out of love is the two combined. Slow and heartbreaking with the feeling of falling faster and faster till you hit the ground. Yet the ground is still just under your feet and you haven’t fallen asleep. Without love, we are birds with broken wings.
“Without love, we are birds with broken wings.” Tuesdays with Moore By Mitch Albam
Too Late
The night goes too long, you're working late. Time to clock out seems to come fast. The place is almost empty. Almost. One guy sits, not able to stop talking. You stay a little longer and hope he leaves before you. He creeps around, you let your hero know. Next you know like the bat signal he's there.
Child-ish
Be a child,
Stay a child,
Don't grow up,
Stay young,
Smell the roses.
Go to work,
Go to school,
Study.
Grow up already,
You have no time to do that,
You're acting childish.
There are no “stupid questions.”
Don't be silly.
Take your time.
Hurry up.
It Didn't Hurt
Racing, the world flies past you as you pick up speed. Picking the edges to match the board with the lumps of snow. Trying to stop then realizing there was a hidden block of ice just underneath the surface. You fly for what feels like a mile only to fall. Landing with your back folded over the hump on the mountain. Sitting up, holding your breath hoping your back and body are fine. Trying to release your own breath realizing you can’t. You’re drowning yet the only water around is the frozen flakes you’re sitting on top of.
A Toy Story
My short yet long and exciting journey began by traveling from place to place. My life began when I was created in a factory where I was told my purpose was to make a kid happy. I was taken to a random store and sat patiently for hours on the shelf. I then went for a car ride and was left in a box where I had made many new friends. We were all set up to have our picture taken, there were hundreds of us. We were then placed into a dark roomy bag and thrown into the back of a truck. We were then taken to an old beautiful Victorian train station and left overnight to listen as the train raced past. Yet again transported, only this time to a house. I was blinded by paper, then left under a strongly smelling tree that jingled when someone ran past. Then the paper is ripped off with a single tear and there is light, with a little gleaming face of joy staring at me with shining young eyes. The eyes of a small kid would from that moment take me to every hospital visit they had to take. My kid was sick, yet I seemed to make them as happy, as they made me. My kid became my first home. Lucy became my purpose.
About the writing: Lucy is in fact a real young beautiful girl with the heart of an angel. I volunteer with the Ashley Lauren Foundation and get to help kids like her who struggle with cancer. Lucy is around 5 now and has battled cancer her whole life. This story is the true journey some of Lucy´s toys took this Christmas. I´m not sure if there is any better home for a loving toy than in her arms.
Uneasy
Waking up feeling the world is off its axis,
The planet is spinning the wrong way,
Something isn’t right.
Question after question.
I didn’t see you there.
How much did you hear?
Then a bird stopped and stared at me,
For too long.
Filling me with emotion
A robin,
A spirit,
I knew what was up.
*Kissy Face Emoji*
“My world… missing piece...my everything” are the few first words I got to read in my first real love letter, otherwise known as “love text”. Even though I received this over text two years ago, I still get unconditional butterflies when I read it today. There is no need to wish on stars or throw coins in a fountain. The childhood dream of being the princess to a prince is now a reality because of a few words. Words that make a heart race and a face blush. Forever imprinted in my mind.
Smile
Its an out of body experience,
My mouth is moving faster than my mind.
I laughed more than I can process.
My stomach hurts as if I’ve been doing sit ups for hours.
I fall asleep still smiling
Mary Jane
Since I could remember the only car I've ever wanted was an old ford pick up and that's just what I got. 1971 F250 Ford pickup. A flashy Kelly Green color, and far too loud. Now that I have the car it has more of a bittersweet feeling to it. I had nerves waiting for it like I was going on a first date. Now looking at the car, it reminds me of my grandmother.
Love
A feeling that we are two magnets only being able to connect to each other. And now that we have found each other the pull is almost painful and lifeless when we are brought too far.
Part of a love story - Snapchat Love
¨I´m gonna be 100% honest with you, I love you.”
¨what´s up how you doing ahhh I love you¨.
I think time stopped.
I think my heart stopped.
I think my body stopped.
Everything felt still,
The words floated on my screen,
Time did slow down.
Someone had to fix it.
I felt myself falling,
Only I was lying in bed.
Then someone fixed time.
The screen was no longer white words on a black picture,
twenty seconds and the picture is lost.
Time started,
My body started,
Yet my heart was still frozen
I did in fact fall,
Only it didn´t hurt.
I fell in love.
It’s A Sin, Life As A Book
I sit on the shelf for days to years on end,
Watching students come and go,
I go with some,
Their emotions filled with my words,
I’ve brought tears to a few faces.
I’m known to be popular throughout my school
Everyone reads me at some point,
Yet no one truly knows me until they dig,
It’s a sin to kill a mockingbird they say,
To cause harm to something so innocent.
It’s a sin to allow me to wither away I say,
To tear me when I have done nothing wrong.