A Small Collection of Moments

In 6th grade, my language arts teacher taught my class about poetry. She wanted us to use vivid descriptive language to enthrall our classmates; she wanted similes, metaphors, onomatopoeia, alliteration. She wanted us to use every literary tool we had learned thus far. And so, I wrote my first classic titled, “The Moon is a Pool of Milk.”

Deep. I know.

I don’t remember exactly how it went, but I remembered how dumb I thought the poem was. My teacher, on the other hand, was thoroughly impressed with my work. She probably still uses it as a student example without my permission to this day (considering she did during my 7th and 8th grade years). It took me until 8th grade to actually begin connecting with poetry, and when I did the poems poured out of my sad little teenage heart. It didn’t hurt that I was going through a melodramatic break up with my first ever boyfriend.

Since then, I’ve written when I can’t find a way to make the words come out of my mouth. It’s one of the few emotional releases I can’t keep myself from, and I’ve held what I’ve written close to my heart for a long time. The first time I remember sharing anything was about two years ago.

I’m trying not to hide so much.

Here are a handful of the ones I look back on and enjoy. Some of them are conversations with God, unspoken letters to other people, daydreamed scenarios, or memories. Hopefully some resonate with you.

With humility,

K.G.

Tired

It’s like my eyes won’t shut
They’re too enthralled by the
Orderly stars rimming
The tops of my walls

My mind skips from place
To place unaccompanied
By my heart, which still beats
But I think it’s long gone

Oh how my soul begs for rest
It’s burning up and out
The vessel it is kept in won’t last
Can’t it go to sleep early?

The days will keep going
Until I can’t keep pace with
The spinning orb that refuses to
Stop or even slow down

I’m so tired.

Honesty was the Best Policy

I remember exactly where I was
When I got your voicemail
About a very important question,
“Will you be my maid of honor?”

My heart jumped for you
The choice to start a family
So you could play house
Like we did when we were nine

For months I had wanted to say
What had been on my mind
For months I tried to talk to you
But could never get you alone

It’s hard to ask hard questions
When the person in question
Is in the same room as you
While you chat into your screen

Ideally I would have asked you in person
But you never seemed to show up
I offered to cover your gas, feed you dinner
I guess you still couldn’t afford it

It’s taken a long time for me to see
I was the expense you didn’t want to take
Before I realized the truth
I called to tell you my own

You said you appreciated my honesty
You said you were glad I said something
You said you would think about it
I bet you thought about it a lot

As you lied to me for months
Afraid of what I might say
Maybe even what I’d do
When you pulled up the blinds

Did you expect me to laugh the way I did?
I laugh when I feel horrible
I’m not sure you ever noticed that
After all those years, I still hid

Did you expect that I was happy?
I hid because of you
We were only kids when you said
You would leave if I stayed sad

I put on a smile after that
I kept it on as you walked down the aisle
For a ceremony six months late
That seemed to bother only me

My misery consumed me long before
You were a small, small factor
But I hope that day is still warm
In your memory and heart

I hated myself for struggling to smile
On that day and the months after
You never once asked
Why I was hurting the way I did

I desperately needed a friend
Even more so a family
But I lost both, apparently
Much sooner than I realized

Now I wonder, at 23
If when you play house
With your own family
If you ever miss playing with me

Ghost Stories

Tell me why you’re still awake
Share your ghost stories, and
I’ll share mine

Stay up all night with me
Describing what your bones are made of
Until sunrise

Let’s find solace in the dark together
And marvel that we’re seeing the light
Of another day

The One

I don’t think there is a “one” for me
The perfect match
Where we align just so
Everything in it’s exact order

I am too much
I cannot imagine a worthy
Counterpart
I need someone who sees me

All that I am and says,
“That’s much more
Than I could have ever hoped.”

Because being too much
Is offering beyond
Their expectations

While others may try
To contain what they cannot
You will see us,
Two pieces from different puzzles

And say,
“Don’t we do well together?”

Untitled

Tell me everything
Spill your soul
Let yourself escape
From the words of your own mouth

I want to explore
To climb the mountains
Falling off your tongue
To gaze at landscapes from their peaks

Let me fall in love
With all you are
Through your own eyes
To imagine your own perspective

I’ll embrace it all
Every syllable
Every quiet mumble
As long as you don’t stop speaking

Help

I don’t need your help.
You are a luxury, not a
Need. Pulling my own weight
Because it is not and
Never has been
Your job. Tonight is hard,
But I don’t need your
Help.

I Feel Good

I keep thinking, “I feel good.”
And I know what good looks like
I’ve seen myself thrive
In my perfect circumstance
When I feel “good” but cannot bring myself
To do the things I need to
To do the things I should do
To do the things I want to do
It makes me wonder if even my “good”
Isn’t good enough.

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