Struggle

Location

 

Water rushes in,

Cracks form

Glass breaks at the drop of a pin

Will you ever be warm?

It is falling apart.

 

Everything crumbling like a cookie in a two-year olds hand.

Pieces fall, one-by-one

Life smears,

The same as thick ink on a page, hit with a tear.

Changes,

And the changes blur with the time that goes on, why?

The clock never stops,

Hours go by,

Sand falling from an open hand,

Blown away by winds that never cease.

Can you hear yourself get older?

The crunch of the rocks falling on your back,

Weight that won’t be pulled up by the incapable spotting partner you had in Body-D last semester.

The days cinch around your neck like the collar around a disobedient dog.

 

Water builds up

Lights flash

Spilling like a leak from a cup

Boom, crash,

It is falling apart.

 

Soda sitting on a table,

Shaken up, Burbling,

Waiting for someone to open it.

The top twists and foam sprays everywhere.

Drops like condensation on the outside of a cold lemonade on a hot day.

Heat flashes and sweaty palms,

The pain that appears on the inside of your eyelids and makes you blink.

Pinching toes,

Bumps and scrapes, like the alley cat that didn’t land on its feet.

 

 

The Pressure is on.

 

A friend stops to say hello.

Ice cream,

With the rainbow sprinkles that promise sunshine with every bite.

Daisies spring up

Compliments absorbed and saved in a jar of dreams.

Rolling waves

Smiles with the shine of a T.V. watched in the middle of the night.

Doors that open without a single creak

Can you feel the weight lifting?

Yellow leaves and warm hugs on a cold day,

Limes sitting on a table,

Staircases lit with shiny lights, climbing up to the sky.

Warmth from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

 

Water trickles by

Cracks may stay

Breathing out a sigh

There is always a new way,

Reconnecting.

 

Everyday you get the chance to decide whether or not the day is yours.

The world pushes down,

But you push up.

Hope is the forgotten piece of candy in the bottom of the bag.

What is your vision?

Will you write your own version?

Passion is the flame that burns strong and never ends,

Like a tree hit by lightning,

Glowing bright as white teeth and the charcoal stays forever

Jewels that sparkle and shine the same as a person,

With the weight lifted from their conscience.

Eyes bright with success and the power to persevere.

Touching the needles of a pine tree, but not feeling the sharp ends.

A shooting star travels far and wide,

It can never look back, so it accepts where it is

And lives in the moment.

 

When heavy rocks fall, shoulders may slump and curl in.

 

But don’t worry, now the pressure is gone.

This poem is about: 
Me

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