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January Poetry Collection

 January Poetry Collection

Man, January was a huge month of reflection and connection for me. And out of that thought and tears came these poems. Travel with me as I think about my past, question my present, and look to hold the future. 



7=16=19=24=36


To have the decadent sweets

And not listen to the nag of others

To enjoy my life as I see fit

Oh the joys I will have 

The life I will lead

On space, or the red carpet 

My feet in the swing don't seem to mind 

They fly high and fall back down 

One day I will get to jump. 


Do people not know

My age?

When they question me

Do they not know

I am mature

And a grown up now? 

Allowed on my own

Driving with no one 

Around; I am 

Free

I am an adult. 


Do people not know how 

Young I am? 

That I still study in these halls

Not yet accustomed 

To the life beyond 

I am not made for that

My coat not full enough yet 

I want the warm embrace 

Of a home cooked meal

I want the simplicity

Of simply wanting 

To be an adult. 


I do not want to bake the 

Sweets I once craved 

I do not want to file the taxes

For the money I once longed to have 

My feet sink too far into the ground

This chair will be the death of me 

Only time will tell. 

What once seemed to glow

Now holds the morbidity 

Of this life. 


Life feels so simple

With the snow falling outside

And a pot simmering on the stove

A home cooked meal

With a cookie on the side 

I am an adult now. 




What Was It For? 


Sacrifice my body

To the gods of time 

Form creases and creaks

Like a door after a storm 

But the seconds

Are never enough


Sacrifice my spirit

To the gods of my mind 

Pick apart the feelings

With a knife that carves

The pain 

To a horrid display 

But the blood in the grout

Is never enough 


I could keep on waiting: 

For love

For you

But the waiting wouldn't 

See us through 






Fires, feeling like the world is collapsing, politics 

Fuck, 

It's getting worse. 

Real. 

Pictures inch closer to my face

As the screen is all 

I watch 


Wondering 

How it’s 

Real. 

These people lack empathy

I can't turn away

I can’t turn it off 


I want to slap them all. 

I want a gun 

 



Quickly, Slowly 


I need it done 

But I need each second to count

Picture perfect framed in pictures

Cut out of seconds and hours

To look back on in years. 

I need her now 

But if I don't hold on 

I will only linger in these 

Small ticks

So soft in the morning 

A sound that will seen be heard

15 days, I say

With a yearning and anticipation 

With a looming sense of anxiety 

Too long, too short

But always never enough 



am i overworking myself or something? 


I am still-

Breathing, inhale

Exhale, beating 

-Alive. 


I am still- 

Smiling, playing 

Reading, baking 

- Happy 


I am still- 

Stressed, exhausted

Can’t think straight, cant-

Fine. 



Who am I? 


I need to write on anguish

Because I am anguish

I need to remember the pain of

The blade and turn it into my ink 

Pressed into my healed skin 

The time has even covered the 

Raised scars 

No long a reminder

The thoughts are no longer there 

And I am no longer in the pain

I write about 


I need to relive what I once was

Because I am pain 

No. she was pain 

And how can I remember

Her if not in her pain? 

If her thoughts are no longer real 

Does that mean she is no-

No longer here, 

in me? 


I need the pain to be real 

Because if I don't feel it

Than she who once was 

Only pain and anguish 

No longer is. 



What Do I Want? 


No one says your name

Now I am worried that I

Will forget you


Will fresh blood 

On your alter 

Tether the connection

And make me whole? 


You were my liftraft

But the candy kind 

Washed through the salt

Of my tears 

None of your stickiness remains 


I could build you again 

Tie you to my waist and 

Jump. 

Feel the cool before

I remember

The water washes you away too 




And Suddenly,


The room changes shape so often

I forget what it once looked like 

How I once used to live 

So close to the window because I used

To love the cold 


The corner are sharper now than

They have ever been 

They grow into space at an 

Alarming rate 

Expanding; once I have my things set

My desk in the corner, 

My old worn rug in

The center; it’s all shifted 

Off balance again. 


So I change, 

And grow, 

And move. 

I don't remember what 

The old window used to look like

I got a new rug now too. 

But it’s gone. 

Already too small 



These are some of my favorite poems I have ever written, and I hope that you enjoyed them too! 


-Hailey <3
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