Quarantine Poems

Pulse

It’s hard to feel like

I’m living life these days,

but here are a few things that make

me feel like I have a pulse:

the smell of roasting vegetables in the oven,

chopping onions,

dancing in the kitchen at

golden hour

opening a bottle of red wine

tearing up while reading a book,

laughing,

wearing a pair of homemade earrings,

looking outside of myself,

feeling sick at the sight of the news,

and crawling into a warm bed at night.

Birthday Full Moon

It was a full moon on my birthday

this year,

it was also my first birthday

in Michigan in over six years.

I woke up with tears,

worked at a job I hated

and was miles away from my friends,

and yet I still managed to crack a smile

over a free teriyaki dinner drinking green tea,

and ending the evening with sparkling wine

and cheesecake from the local bakery with

my parents and a new friend.

life isn't always glowing and prime,

it's scary, sad,

and yet things are only a phase.

things take time.

Untitled

Our bodies are strong and resilient,

We bend, lift, bleed and sing

We are women,

We march boldly to the beat of our own drums,

We wear lace and pink and also

baggy jeans and sports bras.

I am a woman,

no less stronger than a man,

we are on fire and it’s amazing how quick we can become accustomed to our surroundings.

Like how we can heal and live with broken pieces in our hearts

How we can not let something that hurts us

become who we are.

I have so many brilliant pieces inside of me,

and the moment someone I adored

like an idol-

almost worshipping his feet-

broke my heart,

I thought only he could fill that hole,

but I was wrong.

I am more than the broken pieces in my heart,

more than rejection,

more than a soft and moldable body.

I am healing,

I am evolving into who I am meant to be.

Even with brokenness, I’m whole and free.

4/23/20

Sitting still creates

and awkward sense of anxiety,

it makes your mind think of everything

good in your life.

Like that really good kiss with that cute, tall photographer who

you worked with years ago in a car on the street

after some whiskey & wine,

or it could make you think of a crowd cheering you on

at a race-

specifically the Blugold mile, where every person is blowing

air into their instrument and you have to tell yourself,

"Just keep looking ahead, one foot in front of the other,"

It could make you think of quiet mornings

thinking in the shower, boiling water for tea,

pouring milk into your cereal as you begin your quiet morning,

alone.

All of these moments can make me feel afraid,

because they are out of reach,

they've already slipped through my hands,

and I'm just over here, drinking my coffee,

typing away on my computer in my hometown,

aching for a bit of normalcy again.