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December Poetry Collection

 In the month of holidays and reflection, my writing inspiration has struck me in many ways. Explore some of the poems I wrote in December as I graduated, reflected on the year, and trekked through my past(visiting my family for the holidays). 





“Young and healthy” 


They laugh about how I

Do not know the gift of pain

That creeps up on you as you age 

A constant worsen of your 

Body shutting down

What fools! 

Do they not know my body 

Has always been an 

Overachiever?

A thing that did not 

Listen to the ticks of time 

That does not care

About what I am supposed to be 

It only knows how to creak my bones

So I cannot stand 

It only knows the medication I feed it 

So I can survive the day 

And pretend to be 



I will die soon


My therapist says not to joke about such morbid circumstances 

That if my young age and place of birth are any indication

I still have years ahead of me


I accept it will be years until my body is burned into ash

And those around me mourn my black-and-white picture

But I mourn now, not

For the blackness to seep into my vision


I mourn the water that will take:

These memories, who I am and who I will be

No longer experiencing this moment

I mourn knowing I will be a version of myself that is 

No longer me 



Court of My Mind 


Arrest my heart when the pain is too much

Take it captive for holding the knife 

For plummeting me into death 


Put my mind on trial 

Make it answer to the crimes

It has committed; for the 

Pain it has caused 


Lay my body out on the table

Cold and blue metal 

Unforgiving in death 

Cut open the skin and 

Examine the damage.

Find the reasons the doctors

Could not 



I Dance in My Dim Light of the Kitchen 


White clumps of flour

Dust my counter

Built up in mounds

Scattered from a careless hand 


She sits on the top of the whisp 

Her hand curled around her 

Stomach, a muffler

For a sound, we can 

All hear 


She is invisible to the eye 

Blending into the powdered dusting 

She is silent. 

She calls it bravery. 


But she can't hear the voices

Shouting down at her 

From her perch

She stares at the black marble

And assumes it is the abyss. 


The skin of the peel digs into my nail

Flaky but plump

Staining my hands a light orange 


In the discarded strands is her face 

Soft lines made from strings 

Tired eyes 

Plump cheeks grown

Too quickly 


She is bleeding from a 

Stained glass picture

She is trying 

To put back together. 

The sticky juice clings to her

Organe but she sees red 

She calls it what it is. 


In the darkness of night, I stand alone 

My spoon dipped with the liquid gold

Of peanut butter 

The saltness the only cure for my 

Late night cravings 


My face can’t be found 

In the curve of the chocolate

Where their tip bends over

To create a delicate ring 


My teeth only find 

Sweetness

As I dance along the tile. 




Letters


A red seal with a fingerprint

I have grown out of 

Handwriting that has only

Grown messier 

And a letter full of words I have forgotten 


“I am scared” 

Me too. 

“I have no idea what the future will hold”

Me too. 


But laced with

My looming disappointment  

Is a future I never thought I'd have

And one I am still fighting for. 

A never-ending loop

I don't think I will ever grow out of

There are 5 little words. 


“I hope we are happy.” 

I am. 



Make sure to check out my previous month's collection if you enjoyed this one! And follow me on Twitter(@haileysforest) and on YouTube to see my other projects and get updated when I post! 


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