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The wasteland looks like eden
After a long and tortured road.
We were promised no such land
Nor any home that we are owed.
Still we took that beaten path
Knowing well where it may go.

By the gods what fools we be!
Seeing neither haunted forests
Or the weeping, dying trees.
We saw instead clear flowing streams
Ignored the way they slithered,
Withered valley and the rose.
Or how the heart can carve a lily
Into a candle in the snow.
We all walk,
slowly and steadily,
toward death.

But regardless,
we keep living,
even if it is just surviving.
Salt dries, a hard streak,
you say it isn't my fault,
but seeing you like this,
I can’t believe you.
Sweet little baby,
where did you go?
You were just here
a moment ago.

Sweet little angel,
happy and free.
Why have you gone?
It's much to early.

Sweet little darling,
your time is done.
Even if it had only
just begun.
I love you,
but I can’t say it.
You will never know,
even if I desperately want you to.
All the things we never said,
go round and round inside my head.
Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee?

Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed.

So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand.

We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.”
Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me.

Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed.
“But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.”
Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly.
Yeah, we hit it right off.
.
.
Songs for this:
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
Perfect Day by Povo
Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/24/25:
limn = to portray in clear sharp detail
Like Harry Potter, the sorting hat (my mom)
has placed me in a ******, crimson colored school.
It’s disorienting, as I go about, the logos are wack.

Poor little rich girl
no beachside lovers
this interminable, scorching summer.

I’m swept up by scholastic spirit.
Can you hear it? Cause it’s deafening me,
on this cool, dry, Boston orientation day.

As we finished our morning 8k jog,
the sunrise blossomed, painting hot lava clouds
with hues of yellow, orange and pink.

We’re traipsing unfamiliar paths,
it’s not what we’re used to, the roads are uneven
and the architecture’s all boxy and wrong.
.
.
Songs for this:
New Toy by Lene Lovich
Better After All by Jonatha Brooke
Now At Last by *****
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/27/25:
Interminable: something that seemingly has no end
There are many words I wish I’d said,
while I still had the chance,
so many things we said we would do,
but we ended with only a glance.
In your eyes, I see my own.
I waited so long
for your presence to become real.

In that crucial moment,
I felt something
changing my awareness,
and the soundless vessels were filled
with joyful abundance—
colored by
pain and sadness
that time goes so fast
in underrated moments.

Materializing all these silent dreams,
this one little girl who is growing,
watching me with defenseless trust
like nobody has before.
Gestures, smiles, brief anger, and talks—
I gather them in endless memory.

Sweet Melody, my Purpose
from the first breath,
you chose me,
and I felt beautifully complete.

I know that a real journey
begins through terra incognita
Every day is surprisingly different.
I accept with relief my passing.
I see your blooming wisdom
in thinking smiles, and authentic recognition.

My Daughter, I want to give  
as much love and acceptance as you need.
Taking your hand and letting you go
when you’re ready
to walk into life on your own—
watching the indigo sky.
Breathing freely, without anxiety.
After each fall, another resurrection comes.

I am here, I hope to stay a long while
to finally return to my last home,
without fear, with some tears.
Please, keep embracing this existence
with good and lost people around.
Be sure that I will smile
in your still-beating heart
giving you warmth.
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