Change is hard

Change is hard change is dire maybe we spent what felt like a couple of hours in that room trying to figure out this lingering sadness, subtle and deep in our bones from loneliness? Facing this chill head on in the silent room at night under the dim lights with the cat on the edge

Baby daddies

Looking back, I think about all the guys who could have been Like that guy in my high school Who quietly carried my backpack for me, while I was in-between lightheadedness From blood loss and menstrual pain And loneliness  

Snow

Memories of snow in the summertime. Days of crying undercovers and hungering for a drop of sunlight. Gray clouds looming over the Midwest and suffocating our souls; causing it to turn gray too. The skin turns into an ash like color, making you forget who you are. Depression is the perfect word to describe the

Stillwater

Murky water from afar, if submerged, crisp and crystal clear before the eyes. Sitting lovingly above the earth, just a little pond full of memories. As translucent as can be between my fingers As immovable and as harmless, Covered with weed. Uncontrollably transparent our souls are, Depth underneath. Silent pond, as still as can be Cursed