Poems from CH

CH's picture
Everyday must be its own
It’s okay if at the end of the day, you’re by yourself, standing alone down the hall, with no one at your side.  I’m telling you, it’s okay...
It’s the prospect of a better, something that pushes me off my bed and onto my feet.   No one promised me everything, nothing actually, but...
You don’t have the right to tell me what I can OR can’t do. You. Don’t have the right to judge. OR CALL me pretentious Because lord knows...
It’s so difficult, to enjoy, what little amount of childhood, you have left, slipping through your hands.   Snip, goes the scissors,...
Biting cold, but a cup of warm lemonade, in my hands. A fork of bread, with some sour grapes, in the empty house. Quiet dishwashing, the...

Pages