Browsing: Poems

I still remember the smell of the wet wool coats. It’s funny how grief anchors itself to the strangest details,…

The morning after my mother’s funeral, my kitchen was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The suffocating kind.…

I still remember the smell of my grandmother’s garden in late July. It wasn’t just the pretty scent of roses.…

I remember the exact moment the Footprints in the Sand poem stopped being a cliché for me and started being…

December 21st used to scare me. Seriously. Growing up in a drafty farmhouse that rattled every time the wind kicked…

I didn’t fall in love with poetry in a classroom. I fell in love with it on a humid Tuesday…

I still remember the first time the sheer weight of a Turkish poem hit me. I was sitting in a…

The attic smelled like cedar chips and that specific, dusty heat that only accumulates in August. I wasn’t looking for…

I still remember the absolute panic of my first serious Valentine’s Day. I was twenty years old, sitting at a…

You know that look? The one where the light hits her face in a certain way, maybe while she’s laughing…

Let’s be real for a second. Men are notoriously difficult to buy for, and honestly, sometimes they are even harder…

I was standing in the card aisle at the grocery store last week, staring at a wall of pink and…

I still remember staring at my ceiling one Tuesday night about three years ago. Pitch black room. Dead quiet. My…

I still remember the specific Saturday my dad tried to teach me how to change a tire. It was raining—of…

I still can’t shake the memory of Mrs. Halloway’s seventh-grade English classroom. It smelled like chalk dust and floor wax,…

I still reach for the phone. It happens on Tuesdays, usually. That was our day. I see a meme she…

I remember the exact Tuesday I hit the floor. Not metaphorically. I mean I physically slid down the front of…

I still remember the specific, suffocating silence that fills a doctor’s office the second the word “cancer” lands in the…

You know that groggy, heavy feeling when the alarm screams at 6:30 AM? It’s raining, the room is cold, and…

I still remember the Tuesday afternoon that changed how I view my bookshelf. It was raining—one of those gray, relentless…

I can still smell that library basement. It wasn’t the romantic “old book” smell people talk about on Instagram; it…

I still remember the first time the weight of a petal actually hit me. I was twenty-two, standing on the…

Nothing—and I mean nothing—beats that initial sound of beans hitting the grinder. It’s a mechanical roar that signals the start…

Last Tuesday was one of those days where the sky couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain or just stay…

Let’s be real for a minute: getting sick is just the worst. You feel like a pile of laundry that’s…

The wool blanket scratched against my legs, but I didn’t care. I was seven, lying flat on the roof of…

Finding the right words to express love often feels like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You know…

I still remember the smell. It wasn’t roses. It was wet dirt and that peculiar, green scent of stems being…

I still catch myself picking up the phone to call her. It usually happens on a Tuesday, or maybe a…

I still remember the exact moment the automatic doors slid open at the Honolulu airport. It wasn’t the sight of…

Do you know that specific smell of a sanctuary on a Sunday morning before the service starts? It’s a mix…

I still remember the exact shade of yellow on the kitchen walls in my first apartment. I was twenty-three, broke,…

There is a specific, suffocating kind of silence that fills a room when the person you love isn’t in it.…

I stood in the aisle of a drugstore last Tuesday, staring at a wall of pastel-colored cards. My feet hurt.…

You know that feeling. You are standing in the greeting card aisle of a drugstore, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, staring…

You know that feeling. I know you do. It’s that specific mix of excitement and absolute dread that hits when…

I sat in the third pew on a rainy Tuesday night. My hands clutched a generic, store-bought card, and my…

I still remember the smell of the attic in my grandmother’s house in upstate New York. It didn’t just smell…

I still remember the very first time I walked into her kitchen. I was twenty-three, absolutely terrified, and clutching a…

I still remember the exact Tuesday afternoon that broke me. It wasn’t some cinematic tragedy. The sky didn’t turn black;…

I didn’t buy a sword. I bought a darker shade of lipstick and told myself nobody would notice I’d been…

It’s 5:30 AM. The sun is still dead asleep. Your alarm isn’t just ringing; it’s screaming like a banshee, tearing…

There is this specific moment in late March that I wait for all year. It usually happens right after a…

You know that specific, tightening knot in your stomach? I certainly do. It forms the moment you turn off the…

You know that specific smell that hits the pavement around mid-June? It’s a chaotic mix of charcoal smoke, freshly cut…

I still remember the smell of the hospital room—antiseptic and stale lavender. My grandmother was sitting in the high-backed chair,…

My coffee had gone cold twenty minutes ago. I was staring at a piece of cream-colored cardstock that cost me…

I still remember the Tuesday afternoon that fundamentally shifted how I view the power of a simple compliment. I was…

We’ve all been there, staring at a blank page. The cursor blinks. The card remains empty. You have this swelling…

I had a plan. It was a good plan. Solid. Bulletproof. It involved a very specific career trajectory, a studio…

I was sitting on my back porch in Virginia this morning, clutching a mug of coffee that was rapidly losing…

I still remember the exact moment I understood the terrifying weight of silence. I was sitting in a crowded coffee…

There is this specific moment in mid-March that always catches me off guard. It usually happens on a Tuesday, for…

It is raining right now. I’m sitting here, staring out at a world that has turned a soft, fuzzy gray,…

I stood in the greeting card aisle for twenty minutes yesterday. You know the one—fluorescent lights humming overhead, surrounded by…

You never forget that smell. The mix of fresh-cut grass, wet earth, and the sharp sting of Icy Hot. It…

I don’t know about you, but by the time February finally drags its heels out the door, I am absolutely…

I was standing in the card aisle at Target, staring at a wall of pink and glitter, and I felt…

The silence in my house is loud today. It’s not just a lack of noise; it’s a heavy, thick absence…

Let’s be honest for a second—February is the longest month of the year. I don’t care what the calendar says…

It’s 2 AM. The house is quiet. Too quiet. You’re wide awake, staring at the empty side of the bed,…

You know that weird, quiet moment right before sleep takes over? The house finally settles. The fridge does that low…

You know the feeling. It hits you right in the gut. The precise micro-second before your lips actually touch someone…

You know that panic? The one that hits you around May 8th when you realize you bought the card, you…