Disorganized Thoughts

a poem in free verse by Teresa

 

I scream what is left of my heart into a bottle,

Let its contents sail through my blood.

Wicked currents, violent storms —

Oh god, a tidal wave.

Dear, I’m begging you to run.

You’re going to drown in these waters.

Help does not come to those who bother the bothered.

How difficult it is to write about love.

Teresa is in ninth grade.  She says, “I love art, but writing is the only form of art that I completely relish. I suck at drawing; anatomy is hard.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s