warm weather

warm weather

all the girls

with their long skirts

colorful clothes

blowing in the spring breeze.

bright spring,

dark in my room.

she is sad,

won’t let in the light,

wants to go home to

the sunnier place that she calls home.

It will end soon.

I’ll be able to open my windows,

turn on the lights soon.

all the girls with their smooth legs

hidden under their long skirts

blowing in the quiet breeze of spring,

while walking to class in a hurry.

of age/ twenty/ two years.

of age/ twenty/ two years.

I turned twenty recently,

in the past,

I would be “of age.”

No debutante, am I.

I don’t feel more adult than I did

a week ago,

but looking back, I know I am.

two years ago

this blog began as

a place to

vent my spleen,

show my poor, lacerated teenage heart

to an anonymous and unknown audience.

Unbeknownst to you readers, I am more adult now.

Two years ago,

or even a year ago,

I would agonize over text messages to boys who ultimately did not matter,

composing them scores of love and affection that could never be reasonably returned.

Now I agonize over emails to recruiters,

and currently I am more anxious about

gaining a job this summer and a lease for next fall

than my nonexistent lovers.

I loved the balloons,

they were perfect when I chose them at 17, when I turned 18, and still good

when flew into 19.

19.

Brick wall, mountain to climb.

Window to jump through,

doors to lock.

Chances to take,

friends to make.

People to meet,

hands to shake,

hands to hold.

Felt abject terror,

love, grief, and compassion

after I turned 19.

Good bye 19.

I turned 20 recently.

Thank you for reading Poems by her.

Today is the two-year anniversary of its birth,

and I want to say thank you, whether you are a first time reader

or have followed me through the rollercoaster of absences and depression and pure joy and poems.

Thank you!

wet and cold

wet and cold

it’s raining outside and

the ground is hot

but the air is cold.

he didn’t want to see me anymore,

“this has been fun

but not what I was looking for,”

he said.

that was a week ago,

when the ground was cold and the air was colder

but the world was without water,

so no frozen fragments fell.

I guess he did not enjoy the lemon drops,

or seeing me naked and bear.

the condom broke, he pulled the ripcord.

It’s raining outside,

I’m cold but it’s warm inside.

It is bright and warm and welcoming inside,

don’t worry I am fine.

unexpected lemons

unexpected lemons

lemons that I didn’t expect

occurred this weekend,

sweet and sour with Everclear.

poorly poured margarita mix,

swaying on my feet not quite sick.

You grab my hand, we might have danced;

then all I remember is tongue in my cheek,

lips shifting and margarita mix

that suddenly wasn’t so bad.

Lemons that I didn’t expect

occurred this weekend.

i went home alone, i had an 8 am class the next day.

I’m a good girl (during the day).

the rest of the weekend i cannot say the same.

i didn’t expect for the lemons to be sweet.

So far no sour aftertaste.

I forgot how much I

missed the feeling of

another body on

top of my

body.

Lemons I didn’t expect to receive,

were graciously given this weekend.

I thanked him for his gift quite kindly.

lemons so surprisingly sweet,

unexpected, but right.

new friends

new friends

new friends,

correction,

sisters.

so much more content.

hugs constant,

lunch dates every day until spring break.

the length of our smiles added all together is infinite and immeasurable.

for the first time I know what sisterhood really means.

unlocked is the unicorn inside of me,

as cliche as it might seem.

These women are pearls and already I wear them with pride.

ΔΦΕ

this is real.

this is real.

this is real,

coca-cola red real.

heel stuck in the side walk, real.

skinned knee stinging real,

runs in my stockings real.

the way you smiled at me on the bus, real.

texts at 1 am, real.

forgetting my text book in my dorm room real,

running into you on campus unreal,

eyelashes- yes, they are real.

wide smiles, white teeth, real.

fingers touch, I blush coca-cola red, real.

it could be so easy if he was real.