Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
We are all dolphins
putting on a show,
trained to do tricks
for the people who think
they are saving us
from some treacherousus life.
We are all dolphins
finding joy in
others praise of us
for doing something
we would have done anyways.
We are all dolphins
that think we are free
but are really just free to roam
the tank we live in.
We are all dolphins
being controlled by a higher power
for the enjoyment
of other people.
Someone asked me today
to describe the perfect love story
but the truth is you can’t.
There is no such thing.
Love is messy.
Love is unique.
Love is all over the place.
One story that may speak to me,
may speak differently to you
because we don’t have the same heart.
And the things I have felt
in my 21 years of experience
cannot ever be fully captured in words
no matter how hard I may try.
The truth is love is its own language
and it writes it’s own stories
that are intended for small, intimate audiences
and it’s not up to me to put it into words.
I cannot capture the full meaning
behind a smile’s joy
or certain looks given
or even laughs shared.
I cannot only feel the perfect love story
and hope people can catch a small glimpse
of it through my eyes
as I try to live the story.
Love is not a perfect story to be told.
Love is a life to live to it’s fullest.
I
can’t
breathe
when you look at me.
I
forget
words
when I see you.
I
feel
consumed
when you smile at me.
I
am
giddy
thinking of you.
Take it all in.
The smell of salt filling the air.
the fine pieces of sand sliding between the toes.
the shock as the cold water kisses the ankles.
Take it all in.
The expanse of water around you.
The humbleness from feeling small.
The roaring waves and the deafening silence.
Take it all in.
The cards just love me.
Suck it Steve,
You can’t beat me
not matter how you believe
I think everyone
should go see dolphins do tricks.
Simply wonderous.
These days, I often find myself drowning
In trying to figure out what I want with my life.
There is an overwhelming amount of options
Forme to simply choose just one.
With graduation and my degree arriving
In the extremely near future,
It opens up for me enough opportunities to do
Just about anything I could ever imagine.
Which is just absolutely horrifying for me.
Because of the limited amount of dreams
I’ve accumulated during my lifetime,
I have no idea what I want to door with my life.
I don’t know what kind of job I want
Or where on earth I want to live.
That means literally all the doors are open
And I could go anywhere and do anything
Which causes me immense anxiety
Because all the doors are equally exciting and plausible.
I suppose there is one particular door
that I lean towards more than others
But I can’t go through it right now
unless somebody tells me to.
I so desperately want to go through that door
But I can’t go through with it until
You give me your blessing.
But you say that now is not a good time.
The door isn’t on the table for this moment.
Which is completely fine because
I don’t want what lies behind that door
For this one particular moment in time.
I want where it leads.
I want the life that it goes to down the road.
I want the final product.
I want to follow the door that leads me to
Building the rest of my life with you
And you can’t build a life overnight.
These things take time.
And I worry if I don’t start opening those doors now,
It will be too late by the time your ready
Because I’ll have had to open another door
And start to follow another path.
But that’s not what i want.
Since I don’t have much in the way
Of hopes and dreams to follow,
I want to follow my heart.
I want to follow you.
Tell me I can open the door.
Tell me to follow you.
It’s one of the longest nights of the year
and my soul aches from the pressure it brings.
As the darkness surrounds me,
I open my eyes and see much the same.
I lay in the small, worn bed of my childhood
as the silent tears glide down my face,
softly landing and expanding the never-ceasing puddles.
The tears are no strangers here.
My well-trained pillows are familiar with
muffling the screams and questions
that come straight from my damaged heart:
Why am I not good enough?
Why don’t I deserve love?
No one will ever love a damaged soul like mine.
My soul aches with the weight of carrying questions
that can never be asked or answered.
They are a burden I’m left to ponder
while staring at my ceiling,
trying to make out the faint details in the plaster
as I’ve done so many times before.
I’ve been here before.
I know I’ll be here again.
There’s no way to fix me
and even if there was,
it’s been made clear many times
that no one in my life will ever try.
I’m not worth it.
No one will wastes an “I love you”
on a girl destined to die.
Apparently, you should say 10positivee things for each negtive thing to a child. Since my mother has never done that for me, I will do it for myself in the for of a poem.
I am way too fat
but so what if my stomach isn’t flat?
I enjoy the color of my eyes.
I also have thicc thighs.
My left elbow is pretty cool.
My intelligence has done me well in school.
My natural hair color is okay!
My boobs work like an extra tray!
My lips are a nice shade of pink.
I always get the right amount of zinc.
My eyelashes are nice and full.
I think I have a good soul.
Note: it’s harder than it looks.
I’ve spent weeks studying my notecards
for my early childhood education exams
and several had to do with positive reinforcement.
They say that when you praise a child,
there should be 10 positive comments
for every single negative.
That is how you build their self-esteem.
What a nice theory.
What the notecard failed to mention
was what age that should stop,
because personally I think never,
but I think my mother gave up on that
around the time I turned 8 weeks old.
I’m doing good in life
even if I am overweight.
Where’s my positvity?
Where is my self-esteem?
