I feel like I keep writing the same words
over,
and over,
and over,
again.
Maybe because a lot of me is still stuck
in the words
I never said
and
the words I did.
I keep thinking the same thoughts
over,
and over,
again,
hoping that the next time I think of them,
they wouldn’t be the same anymore.
Maybe they never really are.
I feel like I can never really accept the past for what it is.
I keep trying to change it within my head,
to a more complete version of it.
I fill in the sound of my laughter
here and there
and a couple of sunsets
to remind myself
that this too shall pass.
On days that it gets too hard,
I think of days that make me
who I am,
the conversations
paper planes,
and hope
on my roof
with people I feel infinite around
poetry that makes me want to live,
want to ache, want to be.
the last time you smiled,
when you uttered my name,
and it didn’t feel alien on your tongue,
my heart when it remembers how to breathe
and why it breathes,
directions that take me home,
maps that remind me of one.
a little of you
in a lot of what I’ve been.
I tell myself that I’ll be okay
every day
I remind myself that I am.
Maybe, one day,
I will be.
•
•
•
_to heartbeat that feels like conversation
Cheers to days you feel infinite and people who make you want to!
07/04
National Poetry Writing Month, Day 7.
#napowrimo
over,
and over,
and over,
again.
Maybe because a lot of me is still stuck
in the words
I never said
and
the words I did.
I keep thinking the same thoughts
over,
and over,
again,
hoping that the next time I think of them,
they wouldn’t be the same anymore.
Maybe they never really are.
I feel like I can never really accept the past for what it is.
I keep trying to change it within my head,
to a more complete version of it.
I fill in the sound of my laughter
here and there
and a couple of sunsets
to remind myself
that this too shall pass.
On days that it gets too hard,
I think of days that make me
who I am,
the conversations
paper planes,
and hope
on my roof
with people I feel infinite around
poetry that makes me want to live,
want to ache, want to be.
the last time you smiled,
when you uttered my name,
and it didn’t feel alien on your tongue,
my heart when it remembers how to breathe
and why it breathes,
directions that take me home,
maps that remind me of one.
a little of you
in a lot of what I’ve been.
I tell myself that I’ll be okay
every day
I remind myself that I am.
Maybe, one day,
I will be.
•
•
•
_to heartbeat that feels like conversation
Cheers to days you feel infinite and people who make you want to!
07/04
National Poetry Writing Month, Day 7.
#napowrimo
