Skip to main content
words.owlharì

"journey to now"

i am from sand-covered scallops scattered along the shore
(walking a careful tiptoe through waves of shells)
i am from a roaring mechanical dragon and a green height mark
(leaving every other ride behind in favor for that one euphoric turn)
i am from the creaky, rusty swingset in the backyard
(chipping paint by climbing where no one is supposed to reach)

i am from paper-filled classrooms, pencil-marked desks, overflowing sketchbooks
(knowing, already, the answers to every problem)
i am from peered-over shoulders and disapproving glances
(focusing, unfocusing, they can't tell my difference)
i am from too-easy classes, uncaring teachers, an understimulated mind
(boring, boring, boring, nothing but boring)

i am from boredom-turned-creativity and creativity-turned-shame
(thinking too much but they see it as too little)
i am from fizzy buildup to a breaking point explosion
(imploding, quietly, reinventing and rebuilding and relearning)
i am from soft melodies and ear-pounding rock, both at once
(listening to my own song for the first time)

i am from
pencil-smudged hand sides
marker stains on flannel
clacking keyboard with a worn down backspace
fidget toys on desks, in bags, cradled in hands
jumping quick-thought rapid-fire runaway synapses
movement, calm, a two-sided creaky swingset
childhood shaped into teen years shaping into who-knows-what
poetry doves held close and then released
(creating, existing. my own way.)