I slept with a man But now I sleep with My laptop and my books It’s not that they’re people It’s just that this bed is too large for me And most nights I fall asleep In the middle of Reading or typing It’s nice to have them there when I wake up -Saschia
Category Archives: Poetry
My Home is Rising
I’m setting my foundation below the surface Beneath the bulbs Mingled with tree roots Over 100 years old I sit alone and pick and pick I ride the drunkin boat And flow in all directions I wrap myself in gauze And slip into the silence I am here I’m alive And my home is risingContinue reading “My Home is Rising”
#1
The days are spinning over head I get lost And high on the things he said But here I am at 2am Without him snuggled up in my bed -Saschia
MAKES An Artist
The scent of dead leaves And a wind that stings me to the bone Oh, to be lost And found in the arms of poetry that makes an artist out of me -Saschia
Caffeine
Nothing picks me up The way caffeine does I should say more But what else can I say When the energy is low When I don’t have much to say Caffeine saves the day Yaay -Sasch
For Tomorrow
I was tired today It was a lot of Just showing up today A Just get this done for Tomorrow type of day -Saschia
Meet Me
The weight of the world Rests under the tips of my toes It meets each step As if it knows Just where I need to go -Sasch
A Strange Wind Blew
My home leaned for so long It leaned on the strongest tree The closest tree It just leaned As if it was built that way But a strange wind blew The kind that’d kill a witch And it stood my house straight Now my house doesn’t lean As if it were made that way ItContinue reading “A Strange Wind Blew”
Winding Road
Ah, the opositonal pulls The maneuvers The crawls beneath the floorboards fingertips that brush the sky No matter how many times They still keep coming I twirl I sway I sleep I play I try my best to extend my web In so many ways And here on this winding road I’ll stay I’ll stayContinue reading “Winding Road”
This Bit@#
I found the one I wanted We had a couple fucks I might have fucked up in my choices But here I am Still writing poetry And peeing on toilet seats (Don’t worry I cleaned it up) -Saschia
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