I seem to have caught a fairly bad cold and will unfortunately be stopping posting until I'm feeling a bit better. Hopefully just this week!

Thanks!
Riley

Pine Trees

It tasted gruff
and rough
And harsh
But I loved it
It tasted like the future
Like the taste of something familiar
But unknown
And exciting
Like something I could fall in love with hard
And never get over
And then when they
Asked
I could say familiar
Because comfortable
Which shifted quick to boring
And even though the taste was still warm and rushing
One side thought stale instead.

1/20/2015
Riley Welch

Live

My brain is loud, yelling,
Sighing fire,
Letting me in on a big secret,
A secret that is also a lie.
It's called, "sleep is not a necessity"

So even as I lie in darkness
Making attempts to drift

"not needed"
"waste of time"

Tickles at half listening eardrums.
Beating the bass of my eardrum.
Rhythmic forever sounding.
You're still up, you're still up.
Mocking.

Real and loud.

Waiting for everyone else to get up.

1/14/2015
Riley Welch

The Better

And I drove through the thickest fog I had ever seen

And mist hit the windows
And the inside fogged up too
And I couldn't see anything

Nothing

White

All I could see was
Barely there white
Dashes leading me
Away from the edge

And the repeating bars
Lulled me to
Follow them

And I forgot everything I knew about driving
About watching the horizon
And I looked at each
White dash.

Guiding me away from veering,

The only thing assuring me I wouldn't fall from the edge of Earth,

Was the solid red lights ahead
Telling me there was still road
And not a nightmarish end of a sidewalk
And I felt like i was in a cold, cold dream.

And I almost forgot.
But didn't.

1/12/2015
Riley Welch

Sound

I feel like I have endless time

And days

And I need to forget it
Because no one is invisible
But a lot are irreplaceable
And the sooner that is realized
The sooner it can be decided
That you shouldn't live foolishly.

1/4/2015
Riley Welch

More Words

Ink isn't coming off my pen as easy as it did
Everything becomes a never-ending comparison

Is it good enough?
Bold enough?
Will it touch deep enough?

Have I ordered ordinary words extraordinarily?

Or could anyone spit them,
Scramble them,
By chance shake them so they fall in this order?

Like the poets skill is random.

You can only logically create so much.

Until it sounds just right.

1/7/2015
Riley Welch

Grey Like Lead

The back of your eyelids are not interesting.
Or stimulating.

I kind of find them aggravating
Like when your eyes are too sleepy to hold up.

There is so much you could be doing in your head.
But instead
You kind of feel dead.

You stare at your eyelids
Grey like lead.

Until your brain falls asleep
And resets.

1/3/2015
Riley Welch