Anonymous
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Her
Eyes were like the ocean's deepest trench.
Soul–like a glowing sunset–beamed hues of Fuschia, Coral, and Salmon.
Hair swayed like tall blades of grass in an open field below the wispy cirrus clouds.
Lips as soft as an arctic fox, and as red as fuji apples.
Skin fragile like a ceramic plate, and smooth like a perfectly polished ice cube.
Earrings made of clay, painted fern green and shaped like ginkgo leaves, one bigger than the other.
Outfits would always comprise of oversized self-torn black jeans, her grandmother’s coffee stained cardigan, and a midnight blue beret with an lgbtqia+ pin on the right side.
School grades as high as an Angolan giraffe, and sport skills as strong as a Borneo elephant and fast as an asiatic cheetah.
Her ethereal existence
Had stunned the entire school and
Bewildered everyone
When the newspaper headline announced
She slit her throat in the school’s bathroom.
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The Torment in Longing/Yearning for Someone
The night we met,
I wanted time to stop
My mind fogged up, not a single word could come out of my mouth.
My stomach felt like it was growing watermelons from the seeds I ate earlier.
As deep as a crater, your eyes stared into mine,
Our noses grazed, startling me.
You pulled me in closer,
Like a magnet which attracts complete opposites.
Abruptly, my friend pinched me and teleported me back into reality.
I saw you walking down the hall, a utopian sight.
You wouldn’t dare
Stare down at a hopeless freak like me.
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Breakfast slow
the acrid coffee
lures insomniacs
like an Amorphophallus titanum,
triumphantly enslaving its prey
viscid syrup
drizzled onto the brick walls of dough,
alongside the drooling mouth
of a infant