Inspired by Bluebird’s prompt about the sky and the song Colors by Halsey: 

skyfall~ 

you were a cornflower blue sky, 

cloudless, we couldn’t see past 

the brightness of the high noon sun

then your sun set and we saw you 

fall oh so slowly that we could have

broken your fall under a trampoline

high on hope so you could bounce 

back up 

but we were so entranced because 

it’s not everyday you see a falling 

star

and suddenly you were burning, 

burning, the fading sun drawing 

streaks of dark gray clouds as 

you tried to hold on— first you were

red, redder than a firetruck screaming 

down the highway, then a split-second

and you burst through with orange before

you gave up, mountain’s majesty, fading 

into the remnants of seven thirty light because

days get longer in the summer, nights get 

shorter because darkness is never welcome 

when there is so much joy

and then the darkness swallowed 

you whole because every light casts a shadow, 

but i suppose if there is no light, there is no 

shadow, only darkness, always darkness. 

~~~~~

As always, I'd love critique!  

A way too long peom I wrote about change. It's more than two pages on Docs.

Change

change.

that constant companion,

the one that was always there,

standing by your side,

with its ever shifting form.

and you,

shifting with it.

you are changing as well.

is it your companion’s fault?

or,

is it yours?

that one thing that

looms over us,

threatening, yet comforting,

all the same.

comforting, in the knowledge

that nothing

will ever

be the same.

the world, is constantly in

motion. that it is spinning, spinning at a

thousand

miles per hour.

and it is changing,

the sun rising in one place, and setting

in another. each dawn bringing with it

a new day, each sundown, a new night.

and all the while the world is

shifting, the tectonic plates

that make up its

crust, floating on a mantle

of heat and fire.

while on those plates,

there are mountains,

and glaciers, and rivers made of pure

ice. and those glaciers are melting,

and those mountains are being worn

down, into dust.

and all the while,

new glaciers are forming,

and new mountains pushing up out of the

dust of their quondam counterparts.

and the world is still spinning,

as it ever was, and ever will be.

a world in constant motion is what

we live in. a world that will always change.

rebirth, even in death and ashes and dust.

and as you change,

you grow, you discover more,

about both yourself,

and this ever changing, effervescent world

that we occupy. we all change.

change is a part of life, just as death is a part of life.

but just because you know

you are going to die someday,

doesn’t mean you refuse

to live. does it?

because it is your duty,

to pass life on, to share it.

for your life is not just yours,

it belongs to the people

who care about you, who have given you life.

it belongs to the people you have met,

and those you have yet to meet.

to those who might have changed you life,

or whose lives you might change.

and it belongs to the world.

it belongs to the world that, inevitably,

created you. that nurtured you.

you are part of that changing world,

a necessary part, for a machine does not function

without all its pieces. and because you are changing,

you are in turn, changing the world.

the world that your life belongs to.

and the world, that belongs to you.

someone asked me once,

“do you ever wonder why we’re here?”

and i replied, “i don’t know.”

that is true, i still don’t know why,

specifically, we are here. i doubt i ever will.

but my best guess, is that we are here,

on this earth, to make a difference.

to change the world. to leave our mark.

to do something worthwhile

In our limited time. for the world, like all things,

is constantly changing. and if we were to try,

we could control that change.

not destroy it, no,

but manipulate it, make it our own.

i do not believe in any god or all powerful being.

i believe in the power

of ordinary people to make a change,

to change

the world.

for the world is not only changed

by great and famous men,

by leaders of countries, or nations.

the world is changed

by those who choose to change it.

You could be one of those people.

One of those people to change the world. 

"If you need to talk

I'm always here"

Are you?

Why, then,

do you not listen

when I talk 

Why do you laugh?

I wish it were true

I wish I could just turn on my shiny black and silver computer

and instant message you

or whatever

and you'd write back

well

I know you would

and we'd have a nice long emotional

dramatic

talk

But would it be real?

When I come to school the next day,

board the schoolbus

walk into homeroom

will you

ignore

me?

If we talk about you

will you change?

Do you want to be the person I can talk to?

because it feels good

you know

It feels like you really understand

do you?

Or could I break through your face, your drama, your 

"we're together"

your

"it's hard?

Is it like a thin paper mask?

because I know 

just from watching you 

that it's not hard

that your biggest worry is that the boy you like likes you

but he won't text you.

Or are you suffering

and you're just

a really good actress?

A really good liar?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I don't really know what that was, so that's why it might be a little unclear.  I think I tried to convey too many ideas at once. I'm open to critiques, and you guys are all amazing poets. This was about this girl in my class who is usually just an annoying popular girl, but this poem happened because she has this thing on her social media that says something like "I'm here if you ever need to talk," and I'm trying to understand whether she means it. I also tried to separate this into stanzas, but I'm not sure if that worked.

Okay, I have a really bad case of poet's block and, also, I feel like the only good poem I've ever written is the one about summer that I posted here. Bluebird, Booksy, and September--and others, too, but mainly those three--how do you do it? I mean, how do you come up with the idea and then write about it, but just go on and on and say such meaningful or descriptive things, or philosophical things, even? Where do you get your ideas? 

this one's really short, again, I'd love title suggestions or critique!

untitled~

summer nights i find myself 

wandering because sleeplessness

is a blessing and a curse when 

you can’t turn your brain off

and all you do is think 

because darkness is the best time for

revelations and lightbulb moments— 

in the darkest of times, one must

always remember to turn on the 

light, it’s dumbledore’s quote but i’ve 

repurposed it.