Category: Poetry

she tastes like the lies
you once told me.

you promised to meet
me here, by the pier,
alongside the dying trees,
and across the dancing
leaves that drift off the ledge,
and plunge with a whistle and
scream.
elated, i waited:

may he be tender, may
he be sweet, may the young
man come to me, and sweep
me off my feet. daunted but
never sleepy, ill wait for him,
until the sky shatters into midnight.

the sun disappeared, and yet i
wait. fish flop and flip, birds
caw and cringe, and there i
stand, with a lock in hand.
where is my young man,
i wonder, words almost obsolete
by then, i stood strong and true,
counted my blessing, watched
the water darken from black to blue.

i always wait by the pier,
the bridge haunted by
my tears. the clanking,
they say, is my lock
banging on the rail.
phantom they call me,
but only with…

I don’t wish on stars every time I see one.

And I don’t wish in the morning, unless it’s 11:11am. Even then, I struggle to wish for something really focused and thought-out. My default is world peace.

Here are the times I’ve actually made a wish. I’m sure you’ve made wishes during these same times, too.

When I was about five, I wished that people believed me when I said I was abused. I remember that first moment how scared I was- and that’s when I made my first wish.

In middle school, I wore the same clothes for a few days in a row, and our water was turned off. I hid my hygiene behind two large jackets, and I was still made fun of, and so embarrassed. I wish I had more clothes to wear, and I wished I had running water. I cried in my seat and…