Snowy New Year

Snow is a silent predator

that arrives without a patter,

invades without a thunder clap,

sticks around until March

when the last few mountains the plowers tried to corral

finally disappear down the drains of store parking lots.

And we love it, our snow.

We love nature’s great cleanser

that reminds us of lights and gifts,

when in reality snow buries us in our homes,

makes us slip and break our bones,

and gives the unlucky people who get lost in it

a very peaceful way to fall asleep


But if I were the weather,

I would very much like

to be snow.

Rain brags, and shouts,

and washes us away with it in a day.

But snow proves that even the silent ones

can be

the strongest.

Hello everyone! I am back after being MIA for the past couple days. As you might be able to guess I have been taking a break after my extra-long year of poem writing, while I have also been trying to figure out what I should make of this blog for the new year! Well, I’m happy to say that nothing much is going to be changing; I will still be writing poems and blogging them regularly, although it certainly won’t be as often as every day. I’m not going to lie; 366 Poems wore me out much more than my previous poetry project had, but unfortunately my lifestyle today is not as relaxed and empty as it was when I first came up with this idea. With jobs, college applications, and extracurriculars my life began to spin out of control, and I only fear that it will continue to do so once my senior year ends and college actually begins. However, I do have some continuing projects in mind for this year, some that are similar to what I have already been doing, and some that are fairly radical and different. So I apologize if this blog starts to get a bit quieter. I enjoy all the support that you have given me in my writing and want to continue bringing quality content to this blog, but I believe that my creative endeavors will be best helped if I stop cramming out words every day and instead take them as they come. Do not judge the snow’s silence, as it will still pile up to your roof (as it is doing at my house right now).

Also, since I haven’t said it yet, thank you so much to all my followers and supporters in 2016. I did it again! But I wouldn’t have been able to without the continued support of my WordPress following and all the people who encourage me to keep writing my best. Thank you all very much! Stay warm and have a happy new year!




A Note to my Classmates

I’ve just grown tired of it. I know that some of you would understand how tiring playing charades can get.

I’m tired of you looking at me like I’m not normal.

And it’s not about race or religion or clothing or lifestyle or anything like that.

I’m tired of you thinking that I don’t have a voice.

You wouldn’t know how I used to have a lot of friends once. You wouldn’t know that I used to be the popular girl.

You wouldn’t ever think of asking me.

You wouldn’t know that I moved a year ago, and that I have trouble making friends.

I don’t want to be that popular girl anymore, but I don’t want to be looked at like I don’t exist.

I have good friends here. I have friends that talk to me and laugh with me and want to know about my life, but they’re the ones you calls strange and weird.

But there not. It’s strange and weird that you can’t look at them without the word “quiet” going through your mind. In truth, we are anything but quiet.

Today, in Social Studies, we were reading a story, and one of you called on me to read the last sentence.

I was a little tired and bored, so it took me a moment to realize I was called, and the fact that someone had acknowledged me.

It took me a moment, but I was going to read, but you just decided to keep on reading because you thought I didn’t here. You didn’t think that I had a voice.

I got a little angry, because I didn’t want to be ignored again. I told you guys, “I can read you know.” You looked a little surprised.

So I read one sentence; one simple sentence like I was supposed to; like everyone else had.

And you know what you did?

You clapped for me.

You clapped for me like I had never said a word in my entire life and I had spoken for the first time.

And I had tried to tell you that I could speak. I had tried to show you.

But I don’t think you ever listened.

You might have not thought about it, but that hurt me a little.

It hurt to think that you had never seen me as someone who could have a voice.

Anyone who reads this knows I have a voice.

I’m glad that some of my friends, my real friends, stopped your clapping.

I glad that there are still some nice people in this world.

I just want you to know one thing.


I am glad that I have real friends that know that.

I am sad that you were once my friends.