Rain

Rain

Beautiful rain

Carefully cleaning

Washing away

Beneficial to many

A curse for a few

The plants are being fed

No trips to the beach

Glossy streets

Wet feet

Reflections found in puddles

Warning: Car approaching

No umbrella to prevent this wave

Splash

You

Are

Wet

Dripping

Soaked

Cold

Anger

-WAIT!-

Stop

Change the mindset

Be positive

Appreciate this

Rain

Beautiful rain

Writing

What to do when writing comes to a halt? Die.

If there’s ever air in my lungs, I’ll never stop writing. No matter how impossible it may feel to find the words to put together that add up to the inner expressions of my soul. That’s what writing is to me, exposing what I feel. From the deepest part of me to the obvious injury, it all comes to light when I write. I cannot hide me from myself. With each sentence I write, every paragraph that forms an essay, or stanza that is poetry, I get to know me a little more. I discover things that I like, people that I love and so much more. I almost want to say it’s my “Anti-Drug” but then again, writing has shown itself to be a drug to me. A drug that I can’t resist. A drug that I need. A drug that I depend on. An “I-need-a-quick-fix-someone-please-pass-me-my-pen” kind of drug. Only difference is, it’s absolutely free.

Writing gives me freedom. Being a writer makes me free. Free from being caged inside of myself. It grants me the liberty I need to express who I really am. So that’s how I find my freedom, how do you?

Another Experiment

We did an activity in class today where the Professor had a poem in her hand and she would randomly read a line out loud and we had to make that line a part of our piece. I didn't use every line she said but apparently, what I did use was "brilliant." I'm going to put the phrases she gave us in [brackets]. I read it out loud to the class and everyone was amazed by it. It's mostly fiction (which I've never considered doing before) and some of it is real. In any case, I hope you enjoy.

Seventeen

[I am the bewildered one.]
The outcast.
Set apart from you.
I am the bewildered one.
[A sky filled with shiny mirrors.]
A floor full of sand.
Symbolizing nothing.
Yet meaning everything.
[Some lunar surprise awaits you.]
The next time we get high.
Hold my hand. Be one with me.
This feels right.
From my heart. [In my bone.] Every piece of me.
Says that while I am the bewildered one, so are you.
We must be wild.
We must.
We should.
It would be nice if.
All this attention were reciprocated.
Or maybe it is.
Perhaps we do share "love".
Ha. What a silly thought.
Love?
I was not there when they taught that lesson.
So teach me yourself.
Start a class.
I will go.
I will be present.
Raise my hands and ask questions.
I will do anything for extra credit.
For your approval.
For you.
[But knowing is too much.]
So I guess this thing shall remain a secret.
Tucked away deep inside me.
And somewhere inside you.
Lets never hold hands.
For fear the truth being exposed.
[So save that set of questions for someone else.]
Am I pretty enough?
Do I make you laugh?
Am I being annoying?
[Without knowing anything.]
And still feeling everything.
Lets be wild.
No lets not.
Lets be wild.
We should not.
Because... What if... What if... What if it's real?

-End-