Sometimes i feel all used up like i can see poetry at the door keys in hand asking me to take a drive with it but i’m not aware of enough of the words in the dictionary and i haven’t learned enough poetic forms to actually impress it like i yeah i have a shovel and all but it’s bronze and I dig and dig and I never hit gold but poetry’s standing there waiting for me to answer and i ask it to wait for me and it says there’s no reason to wait we could taste mother nature right now and touch the colors of the sky right now if only i would shut my eyes and see with my soul or whatever but i have been shutting my eyes and i have been seeing with my soul and there’s something old about it something that i need to be new because poetry and i can’t keep taking the same route whenever it wants to take a drive with me i’ve seen those trees before and i’ve felt that wind like i know the curvature of the roads and every time i remember them i wonder if poetry and i have hit a wall like some horrible plateau like we’ve flatlined or something and i wonder if poetry would be understanding if i asked it to show me something different or something new not that i don't love who poetry is now but i need a new sun to rise or a new flower to sprout or something before my minds lulls to a dull nothingness
Mya Richardson is a young writer based in Alabama. She has attended the Alabama School of Fine Arts as a creative writer for five years. As such, she is featured in several editions of Cadence, the school's annual magazine, and has been recognized numerous times in the Alabama Writers Forum High School Literary Arts Awards and the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. In her writing, she aims to bend the boundary between the conscious and the subconscious, illusion and reality.
"I think we're gonna need a bigger #pot 🌱#seedlings #plants #green #grow #windowsill #sprouts #smallthings #windowsillgarden #fresh" by love.jsc is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
