Late to Sixth Period
By Sarah Semon
i so badly wish your mind
to learn the meaning of silence.
just for a second,
so it may stop seeking solace
in the complexity of the unanswerable.
you deserve that much.
The Middle of February
By Sarah Semon
She wanders through the sunflowers
Yellow petals whispering secrets to a white dress
And reminding her fingertips
To be gentle in tending her temple
she is safe to dance again
Freedom pounds on her collar bones
Drunkenly screaming let me in
Let me destroy you
Give me the sun and i will give you a day
A month
A year
Eternity
Her heart has an outstretched hand
Through the bars of the rib cage
Grasping for understanding yet
Knowing that it will never come
Decides to seize the halo
Adorned by the angel kissing her hips
What is it like to taste the stars you are made of?
Do you take sips in between
watering the flora that takes root in your soul and
Showering your bones in wind, rain and mess
Or is it Just before you go out
To dance in an empty parking lot by yourself
feeling beautiful again