Searching

Dig. Deep. Dirt.
One handful over the next
A small pile
Deep scent of earth
Overturned
Dense soil, thick and heavy
It's dark. Still
I am searching deep
In the dark dirt
I find nothing
In the depth of dark
Yet, I still dig to find
Find depth
Maybe I'll see blue sky
At the end

"Hello:" A Daydream

She has a mad crush on this guy from her English class.
He has eyes the color of a robin's egg, spackled with green.
His voice is deep and slow as a sad melody.
He looks like the sky on a day when the sun has warmed it to a light crisp.
He sits two seats away, but it might as well be the Grand Canyon.
She daydreams–– sometimes, not all the time–– about how it would feel if he turned around and smiled. At her. He has a dimple in the corner of his left cheek. Perhaps it would peek out. At her.
And sometimes, but only sometimes, she thinks about what it'd be like to reach over and hand him a note that just says, "hello." Because that's all she has to say. It's not much, but it's so much, all at once.
He writes poetry on the back of his black math notebook, but no one knows. She's not some kind of stalker. She just knows because she sits two seats away from him. Which is close enough, and yet not close enough.
She doesn't daydream all the time, only sometimes.
But when she does, she imagines him in her kitchen. In the little house she'll have one day, the one with the red door.
He puts warm arms tight around her, pulling her close, safe. Her head rests heavy against his chest.
He breaths in the sweet, soapy scent of the curve of her neck, and says "hello," low in her ear.

The Mark

Angry red. Rough ridges tattooed into skin.
It left a mark, the ring I wore today.
Bit my finger, sinking in and trying to stay.
Red marks like bumps of molded cheese.
I have removed the ring, but still it won't leave.
Its mark is indented deep in skin
The ring I wore left a mark
Though it's gone, it stays.
My fourth finger bears the mark that was left on my heart.

Juxtaposition

Maybe I'll fly, she says to herself
Or maybe I'll stay right here
Maybe I'll run, maybe I'll walk
If I can just push through fear

How can the sky be so endless, she thinks
While still slowly sealing me in
Trapped to the ground that's not at all solid
I'm rolled and tossed by wind

Maybe If I stayed in a vacuum
It's still & quiet-- I have space
Yet she realizes it sucks her breath
Till she longs for a breeze on her face