Last Winter in Poetry

16 April 2020

The seasons make such a difference. Winter is always a transitional time for me, maybe both an exciting and dull time at the same time. These are a few highlights and memories and ideas.

12 / 7
what if I never tell anybody how I feel
because I am too busy feeling it?
what if nobody ever wants to know?

12 / 15
I am tired of feeling small.

someday we'll let our daughters
outside at night.
we'll clutch their hearts
a little less
and when the sun comes up
to kiss the mountains goodbye,
the weight we hold
will be just lighter.

I will not be afraid.
the night belongs to us too.

12 / 27
at night
a rush of cold air
reminds me that I can feel.
in my car
an empty highway
reminds me that I am here.

maybe it's really vain but
I think I'll spend my whole life trying to get to know myself.
nothing like sticking a hand into your mind
and reaching for whatever is willing to come out.
that's all I could ever ask from you
open palms, willing to catch
whatever falls.

growing up is finding comfort
in knowing it can always get worse.

1 / 29 + 
I feel like I'm always code switching and
one day I just want to be me all of the time.

been putting distance between
my hopes and dreams
like maybe if I see it from afar
it'll all make sense this time

I don't watch the news anymore,
I have a hard time moving on.

don't tell me not to worry,
I was born with this grey hair.

It's much less romantic this way,
but easier on my heart.

2 / 29 +
hey it's me again,
wondering if it was something I've said

a heart is buried in my subconscious
and I'm trying to hear its beats,
trying to make space for the words
that clearly want to come out but
there are parts of me that I'll never, ever reach.

looking for a clearing in the woods
to calm me down.
like a tree,
I am cut down just to grow.


© the velocity of heart. FCD.