we are just caught in a wave of history

let others rise and take our place until the Earth is free

the color of the world is changing day by day

surrounded and sprinkled on all sides by stars

joy is the backward surge of terror

how your world may be changed in one burst of light

we are children of dust and ashes

with their candles of grief, we will kindle our flame

a breath away from where you are

where you once stood will let us rise

rain will make the flowers grow

with their voices as soft as thunder

-

So my best friend texted me needing help finding a quote (likely for an embroidery project). As follows is her request; "

Ok

So

Imagine,

Surrounded by random flowers

A quote

BUT WHAT QUOTE?

It has to be from a musical, I've decided that.

Not too hedonistic, not to blatantly theater, me vibe,

I trust ur judgment."

So I sent her a list of various quotes from musicals we both love, primarily Les Mis, and gc. I kept searching and found some new ones so I sent those as well, and then realized it almost read as a poem.

If you want to know where any specific quote came from, just ask.

Everything is heavy

Uncomfortably warm

Drained

Some of us still have jackets on

I don’t know why

My veins feel like they are being filled with lava

Smooth, feverous, and so, so heavy

My thoughts are muddled

They always are

Right?

I know the girl in front of me

She’s sweet and kind

Motivative, supportive, but wearied

Her head lowers every minute that passes

The guy to the right of me is also a friend

He’s clever and has a sharp tongue but exhausted

Exaggerated scribbles cover his page

Insomnia has always plagued us both

The boy behind me I also know

Not well like the others,

But I do know him

He plays soccer & has a girlfriend

He also plays the guitar

The pencil he’s holding droops

Conversation pops up through the class

It never stays long

The default is heavy, heavy silence

But we appreciate it nonetheless

A reminder of those alive around us

A song plays through my headphones

The beat is different

It’s a song from my childhood

I forgot the name the minute I walked into the classroom

I forgot my name too

My leg sways back and forth

Not to any rhythm except to the thoughts in my head

Eleven minutes left

But time never has any real meaning

At least to us

Someone walks past me

Stifling a yawn

The breeze that follows is the same temperature as the sodden air

It never really changes

Every thought is numb and slow

It might have to do with the whole not sleeping thing

Or maybe because I haven’t had food today

But that’s neither here nor there

I trace my veins lightly with a pen

They are large and green

It bugs me that they don’t match my left hand

Those are tiny and purple

Never beating fast enough for this world

My glasses fall off so I put them back on

This repetition will follow us forever

Eternally

Perpetually

A bell rings somewhere

People move

I don’t

I’m not sure why

But I know I’m supposed to leave

For somewhere else

My head drops lower

I don’t hear the music anymore

The earbuds are gone

My glasses too

I hear my Chromebook closing in front of me

A sweet familiar voice asks me a question

I’m not sure what question though

I open my eyes and I see the face of the person I trust most

A friend doesn’t even begin to cover it

She’s crouching next to me

I don’t think she goes to this class

No one else is here

No one ever is

Why is she here?

Are….no...am I okay?

Her face looks concerned

She’s asking another question

This time I can understand it

No, I’m not feeling okay

I think I shake my head

She sits on the floor next to me

I close my eyes again

My teacher asks her a question

It sounds muffled and bleak

Not sure what it’s asking though

She laughs it off

Her laugh is so sweet

I hear music again

A soft voice singing

“Si tu n'étais pas là”

An English voice singing French words to a French song

The irony is always lost on me

The warmness around me

Is sweet now

Not heavy like it once was

I close my eyes again

And feel warmth

--

This is an old poem about the same lovely person from the Yellow poem, who I am unfortunately still in love with. I suffer from several disabilities, the big one being chronic neurological pain, and depression, which leads to me being fatigued, and feeling heavy. This poem starts off in my algebra class which was right before my lunch and walks through my observations of people around me, and then to slowly falling asleep, and my dear best friend finding me and convincing the teacher to leave me alone, and then singing sweetly.

Ah I hear love in the world,

nearing me,

it fills my heart

replenshing my soul.

Love is truly a special thing

not to be spoiled with thiefs and liars

Ah, alas my heart loves once a theif

and many times a liar,

though I have never once regretted

the love I hold,

many a people have told me off for the love I once held,

and I vanquish these detriments.

We wished and waited for the

Earth to grow into something good.

But it became more than that.

It became life, water, air, winds and people.

Animals and creatures able of good

and evil.

It was the best thing we ever made.

It was the worst thing we ever made.

--

Alas this is our stop for now, hopefully the future holds more poetic sentiments, but I am quite sick as of now, so we must pause it.

Will return in the future,

Thank you so much for the follows and likes dear readers.

The deep cerulean rivers watched you gro,

learn and play,

and they will watch you die someday.

They will watch over your children and your home,

until it long has since been yours.

But do not be afraid,

for it is not a warning,

but instead, a promise made to our kind.

A flower is only as strong as its roots dear child.

It grows and grows until,

eventually, it is stable enough

to flourish and shine,

Do not push yourself, dear,

for we are only as strong as who we are.

Ah, dear love,

life without tragedy

is as boring as one without love

for love and tragedy define our souls

to prove if a heaven and hell exist

or if we are,

completely,

utterly,

alone.

A ghost of my affection lies in your heart

I haven't seen it in years

so please my dear

care for it until our deaths,

and share it with people of love.

--

They get longer and longer as we go on.

Ah Josephine,

Flowers will blossom in your presence,

Ah it comes to reason;

the gray will fade in time,

though the country flag will raise inevitably.

and the Sweet nature of those

that rose above silently and benevolently.

The gray headed wept

the songs of the unknown,

lost forever to time.

--

My lovely friend Jo was texting me beautiful poems she was reading,

and so I was responding to those poems, and these are just my replies to them.

My nerves fight against me

Every step

Every day

Every moment.

Follower’s Dilemma

The sinews tangle, tripping me from life

My muscles react suddenly

Making me fall

I and the glass in hand crack

Balance was always bad

“Clumsy,” they said

Not anymore

I’m dehydrated and exhausted

Who cares enough to fix it

I barely eat or sleep anymore

I couldn’t ever explain the lethargy

Now I can

But there’s nothing to fix it

The bruises develop

I see the glances

They think someone’s beating me up

Just me and my constricting blood vessels

The shaking is frustrating

My hands are always uncertain

The nerves are slow now too

I can touch a burning surface without realizing it for a few seconds

Seems it shouldn’t be that bad

But the countless burns that speckle my hands

Would beg to differ

Physicians and pharmacists look at me skeptically

Guessing I’m faking for attention

It’s even worse when it’s basic adults in my life

Teachers, nurses, cashiers,

I hate explaining it over and over again

But it’s my life and I have to continue it

You see her colour in every person’s laugh,

In the trees and birds,

While watching the world one moment at a time.

You watch her grace,

Her messy hair,

And think perfection is in imperfection.

She texts you worried and frantic,

About your health & wellbeing,

The colour that glows from your phone is one of caring and fret.

When she talks to you excitedly about the things she loves,

Or texts you late at night with the stupidest jokes,

It’s the colour of warmness.

Her ideas & designs,

The way she wants to change the world,

Paints everything in the colour of incandescence.

The times when she’s sad,

The world is muted and tired,

Her colour is one of life.

When you tell her a joke,

And she laughs so hard she cries,

Everything is the colour of joy.

She shows you how silly the world can be,

Permanent markings of her creativity line your walls,

When you are sad, you look at them and think of her.

She giggles when you make height jokes,

Occasionally poking fun back at you,

The colour of amusement shines across her face.

On a sunny day

When the wind is moving,

The trees rustle,

Birds chirp,

People sing,

And you can truly see the beauty in this world,

You see her colour, emanating from everything.

-

An old poem of mine about my best friend who I am (still) pretty in love with.

Dreams,

Memories of twisted sleep

Deep, dark, compelling

Writhe, and fall

Inevitably forgotten

Though not all are dark

Some are memories of light

Sweet, calming moments

Laughter spotted through the wind

Sunshine, mountains, oceans

People of love and loved

Some are neither dark nor light

Instead, a wrinkled thing of varying grays

Not of sunshine nor the absence of

Instead of perpetually gray

Consuming and dull

Dreams