trapped
can i get out of the pit
right now i don't even bother trying
i don't think
i don't scheme
i don't plot
i don't plan
i sit
i lay
i cry
i stare
i wish
will i want to try one day?
will i want to look up and wonder how to get out?
will i start inspecting the walls
staring at the sky
spinning around
formulating the barest inkling of a plan
will the plan grow
will it lead to freedom
only the future knows
will the future share its secrets?
i ask the future
and the future says nothing
the past whispers for me to have patience
the present coos to me,
keeping me sleepy
and lethargic
will the future share its secrets?
Future me to Present me
Hey, you. Yes, you.
I know you’re going through a tough time right now, and I know you think there is no end in sight. How are things ever going to get better?
Please hear what I’m about to say, because it’s important. And you know it’s right, because it’s coming from yourself!
You will be okay. This tough time will end, and you will be okay. No matter how bleak things look right now, I can tell you that your life 100% gets better! Right now, I’m (you are!) sitting in a beautiful house with a beautiful family. I have an amazing job, and a family who loves me, and friends that are there for me. When I look around, I see a beautiful life. So do what you need to do to get out of this dark time. Sing a song at the top of your lungs. Dance around your room until you’re out of breath. Write a poem, draw a picture, watch a movie curled up in blankets. Help yourself get through this time, because there is so much waiting for you when it passes. SO much.
You’ll be okay. I promise. You can do this! From me to...well...me, I want you to know that you are beautiful, and smart, and strong. You can get through this- just keep your head held up high, take a deep breath, and tell yourself this: no matter how bad things look right now, there is always hope for a brighter future. Always.
Ghost Story
I wake up, excited to open presents.
My family is gathered downstairs, sitting under the tree.
Smiling, I run to them and sit down.
They start distributing gifts, faces more solemn this year.
I reach out to grab my brother, ask what’s wrong, and I recoil as my hand passes straight through his arm.
Feeling
You have to feel.
who cares if your words aren't capitalized properly?
If you're grammar is a little off?
Maybe your speling isn't the best,
or you tend to make use of sentences that are possibly slightly too wordy.
maybetherearenospaces-yourthoughtscomeoutinarushandcramptogether,
or maybe there's too much s p a c e.
MAYBE YOU WRITE IN ALL CAPS,
or use all lowercase.
It doesn't matter how perfect your writing is.
It doesn't matter if there are mistakes, or too many words, or not enough.
Write for you. The words don't matter-I just want you to feel something. I want the writing to empower you, and allow you to feel heard. I want it to mean something to you.
Everything else can simply fade away.
Reality
I smile.
A quick glance behind me broadens my grin;
I chuckle quietly to myself.
My dress floats in the wind,
fluttering like a butterfly's wings.
Oh, how I would love to be a butterfly,
free to roam,
my beautiful wings shimmering and shivering,
knowing no stress,
no fear,
no sorrow.
A sharp gust of wind brings me back to reality,
and my grin reappears.
Tilting my face up,
I catch the sunlight,
and feel it refract as it hits my tears.
A drop kisses my cheek and lands on my hand
as I realize that I am still
stuck in the underground cave I have been in for
two months.
And I shudder as I think to myself
that my reality
isn't much of a reality at all.