Protect the Heart
Tag: writing
Quiet
The last couple days have been action packed. For one, it was my birthday on Thursday. Secondly, I went on my first business trip. In other words, I grew up a little in the past 48 hours. I like keeping myself busy because it allows for optimum productivity and fun, sticking by the cliche of living every day like it’s my last. But every once and awhile I’m forced into solitude–the three hours I hung out in the airport yesterday and the subsequent three hours on the plane. It’s those moments, when I’m by myself, that the world feels big , and I’m invisible, just an ant in the crowd. Sure, quiet can feel calming at times, like when I curl up with a notebook and spill my feelings, but that’s the kind of quiescence I choose, the kind of quiet that begs for reflection. I wish I could remember to savor that sensation of stillness and learn to live devoid of loneliness. My company should be enough.
This one’s inspired by “Car Radio” by Twenty One Pilots. Quiet is violent.
Gag Reel
Don’t forget to laugh today.
Tunnel Vision
Breaking
Flushed
How’s everyone doing? Sometimes it’s odd to think that I’m sharing poem after poem with all of you beautiful people without really knowing you. The truth is, I want to know who you are and how your day is going. I want to know what brought you here and what you’re thinking about this Friday in early May. I want to meet you, to get coffee with you, and steal inspiration from your stories. Life’s better when we take the time to acknowledge one another. This is me acknowledging you, whether you’ve visited She’s in Prison before or whether this is your first time. Please don’t be afraid to say hello! I’m on Twitter too if that’s more your style!
Stop Sign
Helpless
Forgotten
Distorted
Concrete
Two
It’s Twenty One Pilots’ Saturday on She’s in Prison and I’m officially running out of TOP songs to steal the titles from (gasp!). This one’s about options, aptly titled after the song “Two.” We’re all faced with options, some tough, some not. The dilemma isn’t the option but rather the choice that goes with it. Sometimes choosing seems impossible.
Have a great Saturday!
Mirror
I love you Cameron. Happy snapchatting!
Regarded
I never thought I’d be the type of poet that wrote about a strand of hair, about the seemingly unimportant details of a day, but something about that moment struck me. In its banality, it was beautiful and carried so much more meaning than I could have ever expected. How many interactions do we brush aside without pause. Maybe it’s dumb, but I seriously discovered some things about myself in examining my hair strand. What can you discover about yourself if you only take the opportunity to consider it?
Sunday Night
True story.
She's in Prison 