Sister/ Sieanna

_{I know that you must have gotten angry
with me, but I can't recall
when you ever were mean.
Whenever my friends meet you for
the first time, they're stunned by how
beautiful you are. I bask in our sisterhood, then.
When you still lived with us,
I would sometimes hear you crying in your room.
I hated that there was nothing I could do,
and would sit outside your door
crying with you.
Recently, I've discovered that I don't like
you boyfriend, but I'd hate to tell you because
you've already put up with it so much
from our other female relatives.
I'll never want to visit you again, though,
because I don't want to see him manipulating you.
I'm not a kid anymore, but there's still nothing I can do.}




Yeah, after that one for Mickey, I kind of wrote one for everyone in my family. This is the only one that almost made me cry.

Brother

_{Today I made you dress yourself
like I've always wanted you to,
and it nearly broke my heart.
You look less like a child every day
(even when we get you confused
and make you forget if you're ten
or thirteen).
Tomorrow, you promised to go with me
on a picnic. It's my hope
that you'll look less like vampire.
I wonder, sometimes,
what your first girlfriend will be like,
and if she'll know more about you
than I do. Right now,
however,
you are simply asleep,
so I can stop worrying.}



I made him wear shorts, and when my mother saw him she was amazed that he had hair on his legs. "When did that happen?" she exclaimed. It's common belief that he'll never get past puberty, and we seem astonished to be proven wrong.

Sleep

_{several shades of sunset sang me sweet to sleep,
and I smiled to see the colors spread to the treetops and their leaves.
It was a lovely little lullaby, in the way that some things grow,
and I was slightly at a loss for words when I knew it had to go.
But the night sky wrapped me in its shining light, and the dark began to rock me;
the moon pulled up my blankets, and the stars kissed goodnight so softly.
I closed my eyes and thought of all the dreams I've dreamt
and down the road to sleep I went.}





Things like this always start with just a few words of alliteration that puddle and pool and eventually pour out of my mind. They never seem fully formed, though, and this poem-ette is no different in that respect. I never know how to complete it!

Wrong?

Maybe there's an art to this, that I
haven't mastered yet. A way to hold
your heart so that the world
sinks deeper into it; and love,
along with other silly things,
can enter in. Is the trick in the wrist?
The twitch of my lips must not be perfect,
nor the sway of my hips or the way my fingertips
are buried in my fists; the way I laugh
instead of cry, or get excited about fighting.
Do you suppose that my legs are too rarely seen?
But who knows is any of this is true-
I'm just pulling at strings.
When it comes to deep, I
can rarely think things through.







Another one of those spur-of-the-moment, get-this-out-of-my-system things that I have a tendency to write.

Spat

_{she spat poisonous paragraphs, and I hurried to wipe them away. what could I say to the cold calculation that laid out my life for inspection? so i pressed my lips tight against the tide of replies that i might have spat back in return; since i couldn't think of how to speak, i thought it best not to use any words.}



I'm sure I'm drawing off of some memory here, but I can't remember so I guess I can't be bitter about it...

Birds

_{When we were birds we perched on trees; we cleaned
our wings and then headed east. We caught the
rising sun, tied it to our beaks, and brought
it with us home. Then we caught the setting
one, so that our daytime felt more complete.}


5 lines, 10 beats per.
Been a while since I had to open up my brain and look inside.

P.S.

_{I wrote you a letter full of words, about the things that are happening to me and answers to your questions. What I didn't say was that yesterday I dreamed of you and woke up hoping that it wasn't not true. I also didn't say that when I next see you in two weeks, I'll probably forget all about how much I want to hate your guts. I'll most likely forget that you're lazy and have a strangely shaped head, and perhaps I'll want to kiss you instead.}






I know, I know! But it's such an addicting style of writing for me. I just need to learn how to divide it into lines and breaks and stanzas. I hate breaking things apart, though...

Hopeless

_{I didn't want to keep hoping, because the last time I reached for the stars they reached back and burned me. Now I'd much rather sit and nurse crispy fingertips until they are cool enough to use, back to normal temperature and feeling brand new. We can still have fun with our feet on the ground, and if you squint your eyes just right the fireflies become stars all around us (only these ones won't hurt if you hold them in your hands). But when I sat back in the grass and looked past their blinking lights, and the sky was black and covered with clouds, it was all I could do not to sigh and hope for someone I knew. I stopped myself before the wish was fully formed, and used my useless hands to keep my cold body warm.}



This is me trying my hand at that weird style of prosetry that I love to read.

I think I may be better at reading it than writing it...

Free

_{I've been caryying a burden, quite staggering in size
in a pack across my back and in bags under my eyes.
Now this weight was cumbersome, but I felt that I had to endure;
when I asked myself the reason why, I found I wasn't sure.
This load was not for someone I love, or a secret I promised to keep,
it was not for a memory that made me smile, or a song to help me sleep;
it served no purpose at all, in fact, in any form, shape, or way.
So I took it down, set it on the ground, and quickly walked away!
Now I am traveling light these days, and in case it wasn't plain to see-
without that load, my road is easier. Finally, I'm free!}




So, I decided to not be emo and just move on with life. Hormones suck :D