birthday eve.

It’s my birthday eve and I don’t know how to take it.

Laugh or Cry. Sigh or Sing. I’m almost 25 and I didn’t die.

I don’t know how I made it this far. Where I choose to

Place myself in the realm of life, others like me haven’t

Made it this far. Hence why I don’t know how to feel.

Should I be happy? This is a long time and more to come.

But the others, they didn’t make it, should I still feel for them?

Twenty Whole Five is a weird number to me. Sounds like a

Place where laundry is folded, and dinner is served.

Don’t take my mac n cheese and beer away. I will still be the

Weird, old me. I just don’t know how to feel on the outside,

About this one.

today's major mooooddd.....

i LOVE bees.

Before us, lies the carcass of a bumblebee.

Eyes and all, nothing saddens the human heart like a dead bee.

Beautifully they fly, while pollinating the sky with magic and new life.

smaller than a pocket poem.

Walnuts dancing on chairs, with berries and birds,

                The air is delicate with hints of orange and ginger.

Christmas night is lovely, while the fire crackles and the children giggle.

194something.

“I will be home before Christmas”

                The little boy yelled.

As he reached in his pocket,

His golden watch glistened

And the time read:

                                February 9^th, 1941.

“He will be home before Christmas”

                His papa chuckled.

The train raced on, into the crisp

Evening glow.

don't know anymore.

Toe Jam, Coke Hands, Long Nails.

Sheets that are dancing in the summer breeze.

Colors from all directions, the room is spinning.

Now all I hear are the worms singing.

time.

Somewhere with hair,

Somewhere with bears.

The old wicker rocking chair sings.

Tonight will be the night, once the

Harvest Moon meets Midnight.

silver spoons.

Bones, and stones

And little men toes.

An A in math means

Nothing, if you can’t

Rhythm.

121618.

Today and tomorrow all seem the same

Watching the rain turn sideways and

The birds sneeze. Yellow Jackets upon

The bees. The breeze, it’s nice. And I

Can finally see.

December Torr presents a tiny pocket poem series...

I guess so

Don’t feel right here anymore. Socks before shoes, 

But I can’t remember the last time we kissed.

The front door is unlocked for all the neighbor’s

Ghosts. Clouds roll by, sun peaks through pine

Trees, the sunlight hits the pine needles. In a 

Glistening, kind of winter day way. Wishing for

Thoughts of tomorrow, today. Wait for the

Full moon, and you shall see your answers.

I can’t play the guitar.

To be a queen, to fit in a shoe, to live on a hill.

Bushes of berries and berries of blue all around.

Wishing for days that exist with colors of love.

I wish I could change the world for you.

Come close, with a warm heart and two hands.