When the days have been
nothing but clouds and storms
and you’ve almost given up,
you wake up one day
and you realize it’s gotten
easier
to smile
when it rains.
Tea in the afternoon,
hard at work on this or that
and the sun shines through the window, cracked.
Tea on the windowsill,
a gentle breeze cools the drink.
It’s not as cold as it’s been lately
and the smell of fresh air
brings a sense of nostalgia
for when I had no troubles,
spending all my time running around outside.
I have this obsession with nostalgia
and I think it’s because I’m so eternally exhausted
and I miss the feeling
of optimism and pure delight
I only truly had as a child.
I’m only 22
but I’ve been through enough
to deserve this cup of tea
and a moment of clarity.
The sun set
on a Thursday,
not a cloud in the sky,
just a hand in mind
and smiles on our faces.
Any burnout or exhaustion
fades away with the sunlight.
We’re left illuminated by the moon
and the stars in the sky.
Did you know that the moon
only shimmers up there for you?
I haven’t felt a single thing
and I worry I never will again.
What happened?
I used to be so lively,
nowadays I’d rather sit at home
than be with loved ones.
What happened?
It’s like a part of me died when you left.
I knew it would happen;
I knew from the start
and I did nothing to stop it.
What happened?
What happened to the person I once was?
I have a fondness for things from before,
things like games and music and pop culture
because it’s the only thing
that brings me closer
to who I was
before.
The grass turned green
and the snow melted;
hope came back.
Echoes of strangers saying
“So nice out today,”
followed by another stranger’s
“enjoy it if you can.”
I smile and agree,
I always hated small talk, though.
“Medium iced mocha”
I tell the barista.
“Iced, good choice.”
“So nice out today.”
I pay and take my coffee
to a table in the corner.
If I take my notebook out,
they won’t talk to me.
But is that what I want?
That’s what my anxiety tells me,
but I don’t mind a little small talk
if it leads to a real conversation.
But it always starts with the same
“So nice out today, huh?”
it was summer,
you were warm.
I never wanted perfect,
you knew that.
someday, you’ll know
how all these poems, they’re all for you,
and you’ll apologize.
and I’ll say it’s nothing,
it’s just a poem.
I’m just in love with you,
I don’t have feelings for you.
You couldn’t give me the time of day,
but I wear a watch anyway.
You weren’t there when I needed you,
but truth be told I never needed you.
I needed you in the way I need coffee before bed.
You could be fun for a night,
but I’ll wish I slept instead.
Note: I found this poem I had written a while ago in an old notebook.
It doesn’t hurt anymore;
I loved you once and I love you still,
but the wind blows different these days.
I worry some days, though,
I’ll never love like I once did,
but I do still love,
it’s just different now.
I love the ocean,
I love big open fields,
I love snowfall when all my plans involve staying in.
But will I ever love another person
as purely as I once loved you?
And do I want to?
/Bonus Haiku\
It stopped hurting and
I felt something in me change.
I can breathe again.
Fresh frost coats the ground,
people dressed in coats and scarves
shiver and speed-walk to their cars.
Take one step outside,
any grogginess felt before disappears
behind the crisp December air.
Some heat up their car and go back inside,
some didn’t plan that far ahead
and instead shiver on their way to work,
and by the time they get to work
they refuse to leave the furnace they’ve created.
Two workers greet each other with a friendly,
“It’s too cold,”
while the other retorts,
“It’s too early!”
They both take sips of their hot drink,
sigh, and walk into their workplace.
The retail ship is decorated for Christmas,
but no workers have any Christmas cheer left.
The winter snow told me to relax,
things will work out,
just give it time.
And if it’s not okay,
have a cup of tea
and a warm blanket.
Spring will be here
and you’ll be good again.
Winters are for hibernating,
growing and healing.
But then why,
I ask myself,
do I always break down
when winter comes around?