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.
I love the feeling of finally being over writer’s block. Writer’s block, as a creative person, leaves me feeling so crummy all the time. It’s repeatedly opening Word documents and closing them only to open another one. It’s wanting to say something but having nothing to say. I can write, but it’ll never be something substantial. It always ends up being something boring, something basic, something I’ve said before. But when I finally am out of it, it’s a clarity like no other. It’s like I was drowning and now I’ve learned to swim.
It’s a blessing and a curse, to be a creative person. It’s a blessing when I’m creating, I feel best when I’m creating, but when I’m doing anything else, it feels like wasted time. I know it’s not, and I’ll just get burnt out if I’m always creating, but I can’t always shake the feeling. It’s good to take a day off or take breaks. I tell myself this. But I’m also the person who will stop everything to write down an idea. I’ve pulled over while driving because I thought of an idea for a story. I feel like my brain is just always thinking about what to write next. As if it’s wired to create.
That’s what’s been on my mind today. I didn’t have any poems to post, so I figured I’d give you guys a look into what’s been going on in my head lately.
Also, I’ve been thinking of maybe writing a poetry book. I have a backlog of poems that admittedly need some work, but those plus some I’ve posted here, I think it’d be cool.
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?
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.
I do miss it sometimes.
I miss the closeness,
I miss the warm feeling-
I’ve been so cold lately.
I fear, as I always do
that I won’t feel it again.
I’m destined for a life
of freezing, bitter winds.
But I’m tired of killing myself
over people who aren’t
worth a scratch or a scrape.
So, I’ll risk the bitter winds,
because I won’t freeze over
and someday I’ll find
someone worth dying for.
I miss the feeling,
that feeling of being at home
The only problem is
there is no
There is only
and what good does it do
when it’s late
and I’m freezing over?
My sheets don’t suffice
when all my dreams
are of your cold, bitter winds.
So, I changed my major again. But this time, it’s what I’m genuinely interested in: Fiction Writing! My classes start in January and I’m excited. When I was going to the community college, I had my major as writing at first because that was the closest they had to creative writing (aka my one true love), but I changed it to a general major when I started taking classes that didn’t qualify under the writing major. But I’m excited to be back to writing!
My first few classes are just basic classes I never took at community college, so I won’t start any writing classes for a couple months, but nonetheless! It is a venture I’m excited to be making, and I finally feel confident in my major choice. It’s taken me way too long to figure out what I want to major in. I mean, I’m 22, I should’ve already graduated! But everyone goes at their own pace, so I’m not upset.
No one prepared me for growing up. It sounded liberating, fun, exciting. To move out, get a good paying job, having the freedom to do whatever I want. I loved the sound of that. But I’m tired all the time and I have no motivation to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s boring, I tried to frame errands in a fun way that made them sound like I’m on some big adventure but it’s just going to the store and buying milk because I’m somehow always out of milk when I want a late-night bowl of cereal. Or it’s going to pick up a prescription but it’s not ready yet- should I wait for it? Or should I make use of these 15 minutes and go do something else I had to do today. And this was supposed to be my day off? My one day off this week? And I’m stuck at the store for 15 minutes because my prescription wasn’t ready yet. If this is what adulthood is then I want no part in it.
But that’s not all there is. There are concerts I don’t have to ask permission to go to, there are vacations I can take without my parents arguing every time we get in the car. There’s still fun to be had, it just feels less fun because I actually need the time off to recuperate from the long work week I just had. Being an adult is exhausting, and I’m not ready to grow up, but maybe I’m looking at it wrong. Maybe it’s more than just going to work and running errands. Because there’s also buying myself that new video game I’ve been wanting since I first heard about it, there’s playing it until 2 am and regretting it in the morning, but I’m still on that high you get when you first play a game that I don’t even realize I’m tired. I’m just counting down the minutes until I can play again.
Or, more personally, there’s staying up all night writing a new story I thought of during work and quickly wrote down on receipt paper so I would remember it when I got home. There’s the six hours straight of writing and editing and planning and more writing and more editing and it’s somehow all fun because I finally, after months of writer’s block, have something to write about again. I thought I had lost the ability to write, every time I tried to it came out as utter nonsense. As if I had written it on no sleep and too much caffeine (which was sometimes the case, but that’s beside the point). When I wrote this new story, it was like I was 12 again and just realizing my love for writing. The possibilities are endless and thank god I can type fast because the words come so fast, you’d think I’m on a deadline. But I’m only just beginning.
Yesterday was ROUGH. I woke up feeling crappy and the rest of the day just continued the pattern. I didn’t get enough sleep, which led to little patience for anything, which led to just a bad mood all around. I slept better last night and I’ve been taking it easy before work today. Hopefully today will be better.
I bleached and dyed my hair on Monday and it was damaged to say the least, so I put on a hair mask this morning for some self care. It’s amazing how my mood shifts when I take care of myself.
I hope all of you are having a good day. How do you practice self care when you have an off day?