Singing to sleep

I know how to create peace. 

I can cause love. I can create kindness.

Make up my bed and go to sleep.

I know how to never let go.

I know how to remember.

I know how to smile.

I know how to cry.

I know how to make friendships.

I know some poems.

I know a whole lot.

I know how to play harmonica.

And I can run the dishwasher

I can watch tv and I can play guitar

I can drive my car.

I can do crafts.

I can give hugs.

I know how to empathize. 

I know a whole lot.

Tomato Soup

If you wanna ask people if they're human
If you gotta talk slow to rooms of children
If you are the endlessly rocking cradle of question
If your nose freezes in the north sent wind
If your heart drowns to be kept on land with your love
If anger entwines your little hands
And you're cold

You're a human.

Gnossienne

Definition: It’s a moment of awareness signified by the acknowledgment that no matter how close you feel, you get, or that you are to another person, said other will always have their own separate, private life of which you will not ever be entirely privy. It’s the knowledge that you will never truly know another person, ultimately because you are not them.

There was a time
I told that man that July the 4th was my favorite day
So he asked me for my life that day,
And in return he gave me his.

''Oh, say can you see my stars
The night time is almost ours
To wander through alleys and look at the bars
Night time is almost ours

The headlights from passing cars
They illuminate my face then leave me the dark
The voice of my Mama says, "Come as you are"
And I will.
The night time is almost ours

The sway of the hips and arms
Will cradle you from afar
They swing till you're tired and send you to Mars
Night time is almost ours''

Almost nothing could compare to the intense and intimate fragility of my young heart. Entwined with the comprehension and composition of death and departure, these two things I cannot seem to tell apart. Forests and softness include me in their absurdity and drag my sweetness to a low and earthy state. God, do grab me. Nigh! Take away not my wistful and tininess! I am the face of cheerful motherlessness and I wince my nights away to the sound of cancerous phone calls. Let my heart.

Bricks

Today I went to a sweat lodge. In there it's like a giant tee-pee with blankets on it and then they build a fire and pour water on it, It gets super hot.

I felt like I was being cooked in a pizza oven. Pizza ovens are made of bricks.

I can't even eat pizza.

I still do,  though.

It sucks to have a food allergy. It makes me miss a lot of school... A lot of assignments. It causes a lot of stress for me.  My body is a little mess but I thank it every day for keeping me going so that I can feel laughter and love.

I'm sorry Mr. Nelson that i'm not a very good student. I try real hard but somehow giving my all usually just gets me a D- grade. I am super grateful to be in Creative Writing. Especially because i'm a junior. My heart is in this. Whether my journal be wrecked enough or my blog posts long enough, just know I really did try.

bricks?

Love? don't read this one

It's hard to be given a prompt. You know why? Cause I can't just magically make my brain feel different than it does right now. I am having a hard time talking about tenderness because my parents are yelling at each other downstairs and I can't figure out why love fades. I can't understand how relationships are so difficult and how the devil gets into our hearts and we get mean. I can't figure it out. I can't figure out my math assignments at school and I cannot keep anybody happy cause I don't enough damned time to. I can't figure out why I am the most tender person who has the most scratchy entrances. I don't want to write about this tonight. I'll come back later.