24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Don’t go towards the light
It leads off the bridge
and into colder seas beneath
Instead dance between
The glow of each light
Along a lit path that gleams
While shadow fights shade
You’ll make it
to the other side
Where my arms are waiting
To keep you above the tides.
Reflection
By: LuvMiFreely
(Hour 17)
You are an inspiration
because you carry strength on your sleeve
even when the load is heavy,
you don’t let that doesn’t stop you.
You don’t let the world
dictate your movement,
nor how you feel.
You live authentically,
riding your own wave.
You allow others to be themselves
because you are who you are.
Continue to be unapologetic
in your truth
A quick note to myself
after Natalie Diaz
I am begging:
Let me be invisible
but not lonely.
Let this body fade
into the night
until I am but an atom
somewhere out there
floating toward the stars
but let there be
atoms that love me
within reach
let their energy flow
through me often enough
that I remember the likeness,
not of their faces
but of their souls.
I am begging.
Please.
Let me be loved
when I am not here
for you to see.
CONTENT WARNING: S**c!de & mental health
SILHOUETTE OF TWO FIGURES IN THE FOG
so we take a jumping off point with an image of a bridge
there was a time when I would have walked off for the familiarity
that’s some dark humor like dark chocolate to cut another flavor
so books are safer than other people but I got tired of being safe
and if you won’t accept ADHD as my excuse to skim the text
well OK Boomer I hope the stand-in will serve you for minimum wage
we’re sick because we’re too smart to be well in a world like this
in a way I was addicted mostly to danger and to the thought
that I could die without having to mean it or even feel sure
I even used to say it wasn’t that I wanted to die per se
I just wanted to sleep forever away from my own pain
But when I was on the bridge and I called Ben he brought me home
and when Ben was done and he called me when he was ready to fall
it turned out I didn’t know any of the right magic words after all
because my spells originated only in my mind
and the construction of love is indifferent to reason
both of us begging, let me be lonely but not invisible
in my dreams the highway loops into a freeform rollercoaster
where I’m sure now there’s work left to do, at least between the two of us
grief is only a vehicle for the ones who survive
My dreams are drying
on a clothesline
that’s begun to look
a lot like barbed wire.
Shrunken dreams, had they dried,
would have been ripped to shreds at the hands of time.
We are but puppets,
and according to Shakespeare,
this world is but a stage.
More poetry via Instagram @anjaanography
There is something
lingering in the space between my hips
that feels a lot like certainty.
I’ve trained my body to act on intuition
but never has it been like this,
this positive reaction at your sauntering confidence.
Darling, let me tell you this,
this love is born of the same place
where dread lives in me.
That is not to say that I am scared,
it is simply that this space has birthed
too much truth for me to ignore.
Books and people are nearly the same.
Books just like people have lots they can claim.
Turning a page is like asking a question.
A person like a book has a secret confession.
Reading a book’s like listening too.
But reading is better cause memories misconstrue
A friend is a book and a book is a friend.
Book friends keep their words right up to the end.
A story can change when the truth seems too deadly.
A book keeps its story ironically, readily.
If I were to need to make a choice between two.
A book I would choose, cause it needn’t choose you.
Text Prompt
Use one of these quotes as a jumping off point.
“I am begging: Let me be lonely but not invisible.” – Natalie Diaz
“I stopped thinking about extreme grief as the sole vehicle for great art when the grief started to take people with it.” – Hanif Abdurraqib
“Books were safer than other people anyway.” – Neil Gaiman
Flowing gently like a stream
Flowing gently like a dream
Flowing gently like a wind
Flowing gently like a film
Flowing gently like a feather
Flowing gently like a cream
See me.
Don’t leave me
I’m lonely tonight.
I’m looking to you
to put an end to my plight.
I miss you
I want you
But you’re with
somebody else.
I’m asking you please
Don’t put my love on a shelf.
Hour 9, Prompt 17, Year 2021
It’s lunch break and as always
She sits by herself in the empty classroom
She reaches in her bag for her lunch box, then her book
And then she remembers what she promised her mother
She pauses, panics a bit, then takes a deep breath
“You can do this,” she hears her mother’s voice
She braces herself and exits the room
Outside in the corridor, the students are chattering
Each in a group of their own
The popular girls, the jocks, the math whizzes
A lot to choose from
But simultaneously none
She approaches the closest group to her
Hoping that her courage will be rewarded with welcoming
Instead, she stumbles and falls
The chatter around her stops
Everyone looks up, shocked
Then silence turns into laughter
“Look at her trip!”
“What a klutz!”
“Where’s she from anyway?”
“And what’s up with her clothes? Tatters everywhere.”
“And the oil in her hair? Gross!”
Chatter all around, all directed at her
Tears stream down her face
Hot tears in the summer heat
She brushes the dirt off her knees
Gets up, slowly, unaided
And goes right back to where she came from
Back at her desk, she opens her book
And buries her nose deep, deeper
Not deep enough
All she had promised her mother was to try
She had tried
It was done
For good
She was safe now