Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · home · micropoetry · Poem · Poetry · prose · sadness · Uncategorized · Writing

Where was Home?

But where was home?

Was home a building, a place, a time, a person?
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Was home the warm smell of coffee brewing early in the morning
Or was home the clean smell of detergent on your pajama clothes late at night?

Was home the crisp smell of paper as you sat down to read or was home the stingy smell of ink leaking from the pen?

Was home even a smell,
Or was home the feel of your worn out comforter as you laid to rest each chilly evening?

Was home the feel of slippery tiles under your bare feet
Or was home the feel of fraying petals between your fingers?

Was home the view of the city lights outside arched windows
Or was home the view of green grass outside narrow ledges?

Maybe home was a time, a time to where you were more happy
Or a time to when your heart was more whole,
when those you thought you’d never lose were still by your side.

Was home your house, or was home the house where your grandparents lived
Where the air always felt lighter, and the stomach always fuller?

Perhaps home was the old coffee shop across the park where the people were always kind, or perhaps home was the library down the street where the stories never ended and magic was always within hand’s grasp.

Was home your country where the roads were always familiar
Or was home a foreign place, yet not explored?

Was home your mother who always calmed your heart, or was home your friend who stuck by you through thick and thin?

Was a home a building, a place, a time, or a person, yet not found?

How was anyone supposed to guide you to home
If you didn’t even know where home really was?

body image · female objectification · Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · micropoetry · Poem · Poetry · positive body image · prose · sadness · Uncategorized

No More Pretty

No more flowery words
No more wispy vocabulary
No more false hopes woven into
beautiful phrases
No more lovely poetry
No more lies
No more pretty
No more pretty
No more pretty

Here’s a salute
to all those
who could not hide behind
a pleasing exterior,
those
who could not package themselves
into pretty wrapping paper
with a bow on top
Glittering
just to visually appease
those who looked at them

Here’s a salute
to all those
who could not deceive others
with their delicate lies,
who were
just as they appeared to be,
who did not hide behind
cakey surfaces
to earn approval
and validation from those
who did not care
to look beyond
the pretty picture

Here’s a salute
to all those
who were brave enough
to stand just as they were
and were not ashamed
of all the things
that made them
human,
to all those
who did not hide
marks and bumps and ridges
just to appear
more than they were

Here’s a salute
with my middle finger
to all those
who dared put down others
just for having flaws
and imperfections
for being human;
for being themselves

So no more flowery words
No more wispy vocabulary
No more false hopes woven into
beautiful phrases
No more lovely poetry
Just the truth
No more lies
No more pretty
No more pretty
No more prettycd69fa304e14703812980b919b38eb2d

Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · micropoetry · Poetry · prose · sadness · self love · Uncategorized · Writing

The art I never was

I think I was only born
So I could create art

I think I was born
So I could write
And never be written about
So I could draw
And never be drawn
So I could paint
And never be painted
So I could photograph
And never be photographed

So I could feel
And make others feel
But never be felt for

Maybe I was just born
To create art
But to never be art

Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · Love · love poem · love quote · micropoetry · Poetry · sadness · words

Forgetting you, 10 years from now 

I often wonder
If maybe
Trying to forget you
Was in vain,

If maybe
I shouldn’t have tried
So hard
To erase every trace of you
From my mind,

If maybe
I should not have wasted
Away my ears
Listening to loud music
That blocked my thoughts
Swarming around your name.

Because
Even after
Having used
So much of my energy
In trying to move on,

What if
Maybe
10 years from now
My last thoughts
Before falling asleep
Would still be of your face
And how I longed to see it
Just once more.

And I’d realize
That somehow
I still could not
Get rid of you