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late luminescence

photo: Arcadia, CA

I can't say I miss the vicious cycle

of getting ready for school
when I don't remember turning off my alarm
but end up scrambling unsuccessfully to
change-brushteeth-getdressed-eat-getout
or the moment in the car
when I look down at my clothes
and find them horribly mismatched

What I do miss
is the breath of fresh air 
the sunlight just
breaking through the clouds
filtered through emerald leaves
the bite of a chilly breeze
on my face
when I get to school
two minutes late
the students all rushing 
like silver minnows
this way and that
in bustling silence
the moment I revel
in how happy
even a mundane
Monday morning
makes me feel
what I dork I am
strolling through the halls
smiling at just the pure joy
of being alive

I even miss
the blaring bell
that keeps me on schedule
and snaps me out
of my reverie 
orders me into a stale classroom
filled with dissonant music
created by exhausted teenagers
just trying to get through the day
The magic wears off
after I cheerfully greet my friends
and I join the tired masses

each class has it's silver lining
that usually has nothing
to do with the subject itself
a friend perhaps
that always makes me smile
or maybe just the fact
that i can lay my heavy head
on the graffitied desk
tracing the carved initials
of students long gone
and tell myself
that I will make it out

the passing periods
are what I long for most
when I see glimpses
of passing faces
that are not the ones
of people I live with
I might smile a hello
at a passing friend
spot a familiar backside
up ahead
speed walking
catching up
until we are side by side
i once saw a dandelion floating 
above all of our heads
catching a whispered wish
all I thought about
was trying to squash
all the flowery fantasies
but already writing
a new poem
more often though
i'm just thinking about
how screwed I am
for next period's exam


posted on: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/33496
March 31, 2020 No comments
photo: Kinkakuji (Golden Pagoda) in Kyoto, Japan

My heart thuds in my chest

Faster than it probably should be
Considering that I haven't done
Any physical activity 
In weeks

My soul is still hoping
Just recently repaired
From the last shots of rejection
And foolish as I am
I've gone and put myself out there
Again

Perhaps that is the beauty
Of being young
We heal faster than we should
Ripping off the scab 
The itch was unbearable
It'll leave a scar

We feel things deeply
Be it excitement or pain
The shock goes down
To the very core of who we are
It is time to learn
To stop gambling with my soul

I can clearly recall 
Opening the email in chem
They said "outstanding"
But I read "not enough"
Wallowing in my incompetence
The world becomes spots of color
Seen through tears that won't fall

Sure, I say that I'm a writer
But sometimes I feel like
I could never write anything
good enough

I'm praying this is it
The moment where I can be
good enough
I'm breaking the reload button
Because despite my facade of confidence
I am scared you'll say "no"


posted on: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/33492 & Daily Read 4/2/20
March 31, 2020 No comments

Dear fellow Netflix lover,

I can’t claim 
to be able to spell
Either your first or last name.

But what I can say is:
I don’t know what I’d do
If I couldn’t smash birdies,
In Fit for Life, at you!

You are April
That brings showers
To my May
Full of flowers

Anyeonghaseo
always replaces “hi”
I always smile too much
When you are nearby

You believed in me,
Before I believed in myself.
So even though we’re very, very different,
Our friendship speaks for itself.

You know what you want,
And how you’re going to get there.
Remember little old me,
Future hotel management extraordinaire!

I suck at writing poems,
But i have nothing to do.
Get some hotpot today,
Happy birthday to you!
March 31, 2020 No comments
photo: Arcadia, CA

U
nder the shelter of my roof, 
hours bleed into days
days blend into months
and months blur into years
We ease into the simple monotony,
by and by

This home is the nest
in which my loving parents raise 
their three little chicks,
princess, blue jay, chickadee
One day each will set out on their own 
by and by

The wind snarls as it rushes past
snatching the raindrops that cling to the eaves
unable to blow down this house of bricks.
Inside, I nestle in a cocoon of blankets,
where I will fall asleep with an open book in hand
by and by

Regardless of the day I've had,
of what lies I've heard and said 
The worn key in my hand
still promises a safe haven
to which I always return 
by and by 

I've spent innumerable hours staring up,
not towards the renowed stars or the dazzling night sky,
but at the smooth ridges of this stucco roof
Wishing for dreams I dare not say aloud,
pondering the future that will come
by and by

by and by
time will take it's toll,
chicks will grow too big,
and storms will come and go
But here the girl's whispered wishes will stay
in the grooves of this bedroom ceiling 
Under the shelter of my roof


posted on: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/33489
 
March 31, 2020 1 comments
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Message from Yours Truly

Hey, this is amaryllis :) So, if you're on here, I probably finally allowed you to read my work or this was a totally accident (happy one I hope). Either way, welcome! Also, as a reminder to those who know me-- remember that although much of it may seem like it's based off irl, some of it is fiction. Enjoy, and if you feel compelled to, I would love to see what you think in the comments!

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