Butterflies

Good Person

am I a good person?

a question that I fear

it haunts my waking nightmares with its overwhelming aura

a ring light made of noise

a circle made of hurt

it trembles when I consider that it really could be true

I am a good person?

I don't think I believe

it's hard for me to fathom that I really could have worth

a currency of questions

a stock market of deeds

it pains me just to realize that I am a person, too

lovable

i always thought i was the luckiest person in the world

to have found the friends that i did

i never stopped to consider

that maybe i was capable of being loved

there are flowers on my bedside table

that she got me when i didnt get the job

a text telling me to drink water

and another asking how i'm feeling

after a nonverbal episode

walking laps around the school

to talk about whatever we want

and she hugs me at the end

a million i miss yous

and i love yous

good nights

good mornings

164 games of 8 ball on gamepigeon

and a lifetime of memories

maybe i am just lucky

but maybe they love me

because i love them

the idealized version of my tomorrow self will fix this

there is beauty

in the mundane

in the simplest things that life has to offer

in remembering to laugh

and smile

and maybe even to cry

it is beautiful all the same

do you feel your breathing

in and out and in and out

you can breathe

there is beauty in every breath you take

Talk on the phone w your friends and play in the sun and have picnics in the grass and bury your feet in the sand and be open to the world and learn from your mistakes and laugh often and go on drives to nowhere and protect what nourishes you and remember to have a good time

I’ll open a window

to spin a thread

across the sky

to drag myself

across

an ocean of clouds,

to take me to where I belong.

Where the sea meets my toes

and the blue waters edge

is bright as her eyes.

Where we can walk

hand in hand,

as the sun rises over

the perpetual sands,

not another soul in sight,

where we are free.

love is my sister

saving me the last of the

blackberries she had

I shed my skin not just for the change, but so I can breathe again. I needed to escape, to feel good in my own skin again, even if that meant upsetting others to do it.

Just feel, just feel, just feel, and I think it is so simple

yet the layers are much deeper than garnish,

much harder to reconcile a heart and a soul with everything and nothing.

If only you were like dusk at sea, serene and comforting around my shoulders.

© Anna S. 2024

Y'all remember "cops aren't supposed to kill guilty people, either", right?

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to die beneath the rubble of their homes.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to be shot with expanding bullets that cause massive tissue damage leading to amputation.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to have their flesh burned away with white phosphorous.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve their fishing boats blown up.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to see their husbands and fathers executed in front of them along evacuation routes.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve an anonymous phone call threatening to destroy their lives and families.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to be detained for years without charges.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to be tortured, starved, and sexually assaulted in prison.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to be deprived of water.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve their olive trees to be uprooted while they look on.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve sixteen years of blockade.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve to be prevented from traveling for lifesaving medical care.

Palestinians who have done something wrong don't deserve this genocide.

bitter without the sweet

you are the aftertaste of what

could've been a sweet memory,

and i think i’m the only one who 

still savors every sweet moment 

despite the acrid words you left me with.

~K.T.