This is just a collection of poems I’ve written from the past few months mostly from newest to oldest :) I hope you’ll take the time to read them and if you have any i appreciate constructive feedback :> Immortal, But Not Alone (Based on Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens written by Neil Gaiman) Immortal is his gold and white suit with the tartan collar Just as much as it is his black sunglasses and his beautiful old car And the countless lunches they share So dissimilar and yet their eyes glint the same exact way And they look at each other with resolute love and care Immortal, but not alone They will always walk through my mind together And one day, if they seem to part, or the world ends I know that they will meet again And they will drive again in his flaming car Listening to Queen Until the world ends again ,they will be each other’s stars And at the end of everything, they will continue to be each other’s everything until they are reborn Feathers and leather holding steady, an impossible but inevitable bond Immortal, but not alone. February 14th (This is based on my experience with Valentine’s Day as an aromantic person.) I wish you all the best But I wish me the best too Because you’re in love A boy so bright and so blue And you tell me about it as I sit on the floor And I try not to cry I hold the carpet like life support I text you back “that’s so sweet” And I know I’ll never have a love like that Good old February 14th My kind of love was never enough And it never will be The single chocolate you hand me Good old February 14th I am never enough And I never will be I sit alone with my tears Good old February 14th Tall and Proud I watch the little green house From the end of my bus route every day With its three little shuttered windows Standing proud amongst the gray Against the wind it sways, and it stays And it keeps standing as the people in the orange vests dig up its whole world The trees that stand by as their lives are unfurled They dig like ants, falling around the dark green trim Until the truck filled with concrete comes to fill the abyss again One might think it would be easier to just collapse Simply give in and let its thatched roof fall the ground But the little green house stands, as it always does, Tall and proud, and tall and proud. And from my bus window I watch it day by day, my head bowed And I think to myself That green house and I, we aren’t so different after all No matter what happens We stand tall, and we are proud. The Story Monster Pages squeezed between bookends, Sky long dark and tea cold, A hardcopy with a human attached, Somehow trapped in another world These books Holding me down, Trapped in a paperback straitjacket Tied to the pages and bound With ink and pen and some mysterious magic Unable to breathe, the suspense roped around my chest The story grips around my neck, its claws searching, manic But there is no pain, in fact, I long for this feeling, this home I sit back, with my book in hand and relax As I wait for the story monster to reclaim my soul. My guitar (And Me) I am held underneath the six shining strings And between the two pickups Atop its beautiful blue-green surface My guitar (and me). And the reverberation of the chords bounces off of my bedroom walls The sound doesn’t matter, though, Because I hear it everywhere The tip-tap of your pencil against the desk and the Hum of the broken air conditioner in math class Every note makes me long for My guitar (and me). And sometimes when I play, I feel that its head with all six metallic knobs Is my head, And its body is my body, Moving through the music Flying down and up and then back down again across the fingerboard My guitar and me.
