a passing haze of touch,

graces the skin of my forehead

and rounded cheeks

like the film of a plastic curtain.

Everything is clouded 

in sheets of slate-gray– 

the sky, the concrete beneath my Adidas sneakers, 

even the birds with their muddied feathers, 

wrapped tightly around their little bodies, 

hop across asphalt streets,

bright blue faded. 

The cold is bone-deep,

the misleading kind that made me think

I’d be fine if I left the house in just a sweater and jeans,

’til it leeched the warm flesh of my body,

made my chest go clammy.

I keep walking along the tall, metal fence,

teeth quivering slightly in my jaw,

cars whistling by the sides of glass buildings.

A song plays in my headphones

from the iPhone shoved in the back of my jean pocket,

a Noah Kahan song,

one of the few that I know by heart,

something about driving with an empty engine,

about moving as slowly as the seasons. 

Each step I take along the sidewalk feels like a mile. 

I keep walking. 

The post Spring: “Growing Sideways” appeared first on GirlSpring.

It shows up anyway
through open windows,
through sleeves rolled up without thinking,
through the quiet decision
to try again tomorrow.

The trees don’t rush it.
They don’t explain themselves
for standing bare all winter.
They trust green to arrive
when it’s ready.

I start doing the same.
Wearing the shoes I kept saving.
Raising my hand once.
Letting unfinished things
stay unfinished.

Some days I still feel small.
Some days I doubt myself.
But the light keeps finding me
on the walk home,
soft and steady.

Spring doesn’t ask me to be new.
Only present.
Only open.
Only brave enough
to grow in my own time.

The post Spring Is Not a Makeover appeared first on GirlSpring.

I am a woman

but I have a voice.

I am a woman

but my tears don’t like to fall.

I am a woman

but my opinions are stronger than steel.

I am a woman

but I can run as fast as a cheetah.

I am a woman

but sometimes my grades are lower
than the titanic.

I am a women

but my face is spotted, with big, red, painful dots all over.

I’m a woman.

I am loud.

I am a woman.

I’m not emotional.

I am a woman.

I don’t hold back.

I am a woman.

I’m athletic.

I am a woman.

I’m not smart.

I am a woman.

I’m not beautiful.

I am a woman.

The post I am a Woman appeared first on GirlSpring.

We don’t text all day anymore.
We send one photo, maybe two,
and trust the rest.

You still know when I’m tired.
I still know when you’re pretending
not to be.

We learned each other
in small places.
Bus rides.
Shared snacks.
Laughing too loud
when we were supposed to be quiet.

Somewhere, we stopped needing proof.
No constant updates.
No matching schedules.
Just the quiet understanding
that we’re still here.

When we meet again,
it’s easy.
Like sitting down in a chair
you once thought you lost.

We don’t hold each other tightly.
We don’t have to.

We stay
because we want to.

The post How We Stay Friends appeared first on GirlSpring.

drags in a new era with the gray,

where the cold dew of winter dusk

slowly fades 

to the beaded light 

of reluctant dawn,

reflected in drops of rain 

left from a fresh pour,

cleansing time clean,

dripping between the gaps

of my fingers,

running my dry mouth wet,

relentless,

a beginning with no certain promises,

another notch added to my belt,

as I tell myself

“no matter”

still clutching onto the last shades of hope 

for revolution and change

to shock life 

back into dead dreams

and cure a drought with a single shower. 

The post New Year’s Eve appeared first on GirlSpring.

The trees are twinkling

The lights are sparkling

The snowflakes are falling

Children waiting in line to sit on Santa’s lap

Parents shopping for presents in department stores

Carolers singing their favorite songs to strangers

Inflatable elves are waving from store fronts

Plastic reindeer are bounding in your neighbor’s yard

Plush snowmen are adjourning the surface of every restaurant counter

The lights and noise are mesmerizing

They are distracting 

In a forgotten corner a little baby lays in a manger

He is precious and small

Yet he is King of Israel 

He is the greatest gift given to the world

He is absolute perfection

He is love incarnate 

He is the only hope we need

He is the only peace we have

He is the only joy we know

He is all we need

He is all we desire

He is all we crave

He came to join us

He came to love us

He came to save us

The lights and noise try to be mesmerizing

They try to be distracting

Do not let them

Do not let the baby stay in the dusty corner

Do not forget the real reason to celebrate

The post The Forgotten Reason appeared first on GirlSpring.

Meet me in the meadow.
Where we were young and pure.
When life didn’t burn to the same degree as when we were 5.
Who could stop us from being us?

Just two little kids chasing dreams.
Believing in Santa and the Tooth Fairy.
Let’s sprint through the labyrinth like when we were 10,
where age does not matter, and we could just be free.

Let’s roll in the Myosotis oblongata
So that the memories will flow
Come back to the forefront
With powers of blinding gold

I dust off the gypsophila that don’t matter
Since you’re not pure anymore
Not since you tried to disintegrate the flowers
Attempting to erase you and me from this land of memories

I fold your hands over your heart
Act like you’re only sleeping
Or just breathing slow
As I cover you in Papaver rhoeas

You quietly seep into the ground
The vines rising up and making you part of them.
Your soul answer to their bludgeoning call,
that you could never ignore.

No matter how many times tried to command
this meadow of possibilities.
Now they’re here to prove to you once and for all that
you could never dominate what’s already been set in stone.

The post Greenhouse Overflowing with Time appeared first on GirlSpring.

You may give and receive gratitude in your lifetime.

Sometimes, “Thank you”  is given as a spoken response.

Sometimes in the form of a card, hand-decorated or color-sorted by slanted shelves.

Sometimes it is the one that reflects a resolve, partially or completely.

Sometimes it is given in the roaring applause or quiet snaps and hoots.

Sometimes it is the look in someone’s eyes that nothing else can explain.

Sometimes it is held in the closing of a hug or the shake between two hands.

Sometimes it feels like something else.

Sometimes it is glanced over like crumpled paper on the street.

Sometimes it comes with some heat to it, stinging like the scent of sea water in the cool air.

Sometimes it feels cold, like a snow-covered doormat when all the lights are off in the house.

Sometimes it is the missing piece in someone’s fragmented heart.

Sometimes it is the start of something better or worse.

Sometimes it is the steps in the routine repeated day after day.

Sometimes it is the eyes of someone who feels stuck in time.

Sometimes it is the word of the world.

Sometimes I hope it means something to you

And this something– and I truly mean it –

Is my Thank You.

(Thank you for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it :). )

The post Something About Gratitude – Free Verse appeared first on GirlSpring.

and time sifts through my fingers

falling

as swiftly

as the golden burned leaves

struggle to fly off branches

the world

spins out of my control,

silk blue

swallows my head

I hold out my hand,

expectantly,

and a single leaf

drifts and catches

in some hole in my heart

my hand tightens,

it crunches against my dry palm

I cling

to desperation

to hope

for a better season.

The post Under the Oak Tree: A Poem appeared first on GirlSpring.

The best year of your life

The year filled with lasts, laughs, memories, and traditions

The year you spend every second with friends

Reconnect

Relive

Rejoice in the friendships you have made

The year you think back on all of the recesses, field trips, exam sessions, and group projects

When you remember old trends, fast fashion, and nostalgic movies

The year when you have to step into a new part of your life

The year when you have to leave what you know behind

The year you have to decide what you want to do 

And who you want to be

Senior year is the door into the unknown

And while the unknown can be terrifying

It can also be exciting

Not knowing what exactly comes next 

Leads to unexpected opportunities

Yes,

Senior year can be the best year of your life

But not because of the lasts, laughs, memories, and traditions

But because of the new path you are about to take

Senior year is a year of goodbyes 

And you are ready to say farewell

The post Senior Year appeared first on GirlSpring.