I am once again posting a picture of my fireplace
Chasing the Sun
Following its tail
Moving towards the firey sky
It’s all I can every do
•
Dark and red
Loud and soft colours
Float above the ombred horizon
It’s so far away
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I’m so high
Up in the clouds where borders don’t exist in dotted lines
No man can say this is my land and this where I stay
Put down the weapons
•
Trees and roads and city
They don’t have names up here
The cloud casting shadows don’t discriminate
When everyone thinks they have control
They have none
•
Pin pricks like on a dream board is my home
They stand out in lines and strips and blocks
Underneath the airplane wing
My family and my cat and my friends
Sleep
Underneath the airplane wing
•
Grids and lines are houses
Lit up with the bright joy of a welcome home
I’ve forgotten about the sinking feeling in my stomach
I can’t remember when my ears weren’t popped
•
Stars anchored to the ground
Thin out into the blackness of land
Leaving the dense city behind
Underneath the plane wing
•
Turning and tilting
Sinking and swooping
It was the wrong place
Too small to make a safe landing
To far to house my bed
To high to reach down and touch the glimmering city lights
•
I don’t live in the city
I breathe the city
I take it in when the sky glows orange
When the free stars
Dance
Far and away
Stealing the warmth from each other
To stay alive another day
•
Into the clouds
I’m enveloped
Inside the whipped cream sky
Nothing but a hazy grey ocean
The blinking plane light
Reflects off the fluff surrounding it
•
There’s my city
I can see the invisible dots of my parents
Waiting for me inside the airport
My little sister
Bouncing on the balls of her feet
Jittering and shaking with excitement
•
I can barely see the fading green property lines
Small winding roads
A house with sleeping and unsleeping people
But I am still awake
Mac Miller, Circles
a scrumptious snak
Jasper is national park
A landmark in my mind
A place for long walks
And quiet conversations
Tall trees that wave as you pass
The smell of rain
When you first wake up
Gravel paths and muddy trails
Whispering leaves when the wind
Blows a little harder than before
The colour green in every form it can take
Making you love the colour anew every second
Holding cold hands
Pockets that are warm
Beanies and black sweaters
Watery eyes and explaining that you’re not crying it’s just the wind
Hugs that hold on and don’t plan on letting go
Friendship braclets on dirty ankles
Hiking boots because they’re practical
i followed a tutorial to create this cute lil moment
paint your own beautiful rose
and I said, “hey look, the sky’s on fire”
Melissa, 23, she/her, Canadian, poetry and a little bit of everything all of the time
38 posts