Tomorrow will mark a month since my 24th birthday. I pray that year 24 treats me better than 23. It will: I have been making it a point to think more positively about life. I have been wanting to write for a while, but as much as I feel as if I have something to say, I feel as if I do not know how to say it. All I can think about is a poem that I wrote for school last semester. My assignment was to write about love in an un-cliche way. This is what I wrote:
When the Thirteen Inches from Head to Heart Feels Like MilesShe awakes to the smell of sweet,
Nauseating sweet. Faintly pink and orange and
Dark blue, the ambiguous heavens refused
To reveal night or morning.
Trees surrounded her, orange trees. Fruit and blossom
Intending to rot.
She stands, body aching, and examines her hand
Rich soil under her nails and scraped bloody palms.
Her knees are just as damaged.
Panic sounds in the distance. She turns back and runs.
Gasping for air, Dogging between the flowers and fruit and trees,
She changes her course and loses bearing.
Moments pass, she turns her head and
slows her pace. She begins to feel safe.
Neglecting her steps, she tumbles at the earth.
Unable to stand once more, she crawls. Waiting, she falls asleep.
She awakes to the smell of sweet
Decaying sweet. Faintly orange and
Dark blue. The ambiguous heavens refused
To reveal morning or night.
Trees surround her, orange trees.
Rotting fruit and blossom...