Starting Over

Author's Note: I'm tired of writing depressing poetry, or only writing good things when I'm sad.

From now on, I'm going to start writing just for the fun of it. Or well, writing well. And this will take much practice. But I want to do it.

Therefore, I'm going to start by exporting very, very old scraps that I've converted into short poems. They do not have my usual rhythm, whimsy, emotion, or rhyme. But looking back at them, I don't really mind. I like them a little more now. And they're hope that I can develop something a little more for my poetry. Because at the very least, these poems still sound like me.

So here's to starting over.

That is all.

///

never again.

She came home with blood
dripping from her severed finger.

He told her to go
clean up the carpet,

not noticing that her wedding ring
            was gone.

(10/09/11)

lovely fabric, dear.

She danced in her dress that night 

and people told her it suited her. 

She laughed, thinking of all

the hearts she took to make it.

(08/28/11)

fault lines.

We drowned out 

the noise of the world 

with the beat of hearts 

and footsteps 

in the effort to dance 

on fault lines. 

Nobody quite expected 

          the tsunamis.

(08/21/12)

burning strings, again.

People thought liquid fire 

that you could drink 

was useless. 

But it was the best thing 

      to burn 

all these butterflies with.

(05/04/11)

disney.

And so they lived 

happily ever after. 

At least until 

they got married. 

Then they couldn't 

stand each other. 

But fairy-tales 

never show that.

(04/27/11)

curiosity.

And when you said 

you were bulletproof, 

I just had to test it. 

Apparently, you're not. 

Curiosity killed you, 

          I guess. 

Oops.

(05/06/11)

flaw.

He wanted to love her. 

But she had that one flaw. 

Then when he finally got over it, 

he just had to say; 

"I love you, Mole-y. 

     I mean. Molly."

(05/19/11)

cell.

He looked at the petri dish 

           and smiled. 

He had gotten 

what he wanted from her: 

          her cells. 

Here they were, 

neatly dividing themselves. 

Soon he would have 

a "her" that loved him.

(06/22/11)

weight.

You put the weight of your world 

on my shoulders, and took my hand 

so we could run through the earth

and show them how happy you were now.

(10/09/12)

breath.

So you took my breath away 

and trapped it in a bottle, 

for the greatest theft 

          of your life. 

You put your ninja mask on 

and hopped off the window ledge 

to throw the bottle into the sea, 

and told me that maybe 

I'd be lucky enough 

to get it back one day.

(09/28/12)

fudge.

So she stole my heart. 

At the time, she thought 

it was a brownie.

(12/03/11)