when i was sixteen i swore i’d kick up these wandering legs, head north into the city, head north into the snow. i said i could count the love lost on one hand
when i was seventeen i swore i was done with with this. longed to find myself in the backseat of a pick up heading south. i dreamed of the dirt streets, the peach trees. i imagined the sweet fruit and cracking its skin and our button ups. oh my curly hair.
when i was eighteen i swore i could have curled up in a ball and hoped to be anywhere. stayed up all night, dreamed of all the ways to make things right. played nurse to two sick hearts.
when i was nineteen i dreamed of going away. too many sad answers to never ending questions.

your face, my hands
how beautiful that crooked stance
i can still taste the salty skin on my mouth

and our worn spirits, i still feel them
crowding in that empty house,
we dreamt up but couldn’t fill with anything now

so many nights crying out in our sleep
you can’t get your arms wrapped around me
we never thought
that we’d ever have to wander out so far

Based on this post, I would read this book if you wrote/published it. You’re a good writer.

Thanks so much! If I make any progress I’ll be sure to post excerpts here.

   The grass made a soft bed upon the warm earth where I lay watching leaves wispily fall to my sides.  Autumn was sweeping through Lupa subtly this year. The leaves had begun to slip into their tuxedos of red and orange and sneak fluidly from the trees’ thinning branches. I watched their delicate cracking skins scratch against one another as they gathered in little piles beneath the forest’s family of trees. I admired their grace, tiny dancers pirouetting until they reached the earth. But more so, I admired their courage. Once, these newly dressed leaves were only working parts of one large entity, but now so effortlessly they’ve reinvented themselves. They’ve fearlessly constructed a new path and purpose, unescorted by the branches that bore them.
    I spend much of my time here, accompanied by these trees, the earth and sky. Life has grown so much quieter since my father left early last year. He set off in such a hurry and with so little explanation, it’s hard to say when and if he will ever return to us. I remember so vividly the last moments we shared near the edge of one of the forests that surrounded the vast emerald plains of our district. I remember the way his hands shook and the eerie paleness that hung over his caramel colored skin. My father’s dark hair flared slightly over his ears and swayed backwards to reveal the long wrinkles that stretched across his forehead. They creased as the urgent words rolled off of his guarded tongue.
    “You must never forget the words we spoke in this same forest on the afternoon of your twelfth year. You must remember Feather, who you are but never be bound by it. I will be back as soon as the sun allows. I will return Feather. This, I promise.”

This is a draft from a novel I was really interested in writing sometime early last year. I still think about the characters a ton. They’ve stuck with me so I think it really is my duty to write their story.

It was really nice to have some questions in my inbox. I haven’t really been fair to my followers of this blog. I suppose I just havent had much inspiration lately.

Please stick around. Leave some feed back. Stay awesome.

lil neenz