I am from paper.
From stacks of books and boxes of notes;
Emotions poured onto sheets of dead trees;
Late night sketches
And pages of spilled ink.
I am from the safe solitude of branches
The giant twin pines-
Towering over the shed
Like two silent guardians
I'm from nooks and crannies
From the places I made my sanctuary.
I'm from the tag alongs
And the kids in the corner.
From "shut up and go do it now!"
I'm from my teachers asking
Why my homework isn't done
Or why I didn't get any sleep.
I'm from the scratchy red carpets and seat cushions
Where I sat for four hours every Sunday.
From the sound of Russian hymns once a week
Or the blaring of Russian tv
That my father watches on the other six.
My walls are where I came from;
My bedroom kept me safe.
Cradled me in silence,
Shutting out the world.
Music brought me to life
Drowning out the
Harsh slam of doors
Or filling the silence with words.
The lyrics gave me feeling,
The beat gave me a pulse.
I've got a heartbeat from their rhythm,
The songs helped give it a meaning.
YOU ARE READING
Notes
De TodoA glimpse into my mind. These are notes from my phone, starting from 2013 to the present day. My poems, rants, late night thoughts, things I've seen and heard, words I wanted to remember. (Note: There is some content hinting at various mature or tri...
