Archive for the ‘LexieM’ Category

Cut Down by Lexi Morgan

Posted: June 2, 2014 by Lexi in LexieM

I never dreamed you’d be cut down.
Your leaves taught me to sing,
Whispered songs in my ear.
Perched on your shoulders,
Autumn-red leaves all around me,
I was a bird.
I could fly.
I never dreamed you’d be cut down.
I was uprooted as you were,
An empty hole in my memory
Where you used to be;
Just a hole in the ground.
Autumn-red no longer paints my world.
I don’t fly anymore.
I never dreamed you’d be cut down.

Advertisements

When We’re Little by Lexi Morgan

Posted: June 2, 2014 by Lexi in LexieM

When we’re little, we run for fun.
We run so we can fly.
We run through the sweltering heat,
and hear the sound of cloth swishing together as our little legs pump
And make us take off.
We see the world whizzing by in colors like melted Neapolitan
Ice cream.
When we stop, our legs are jelly.
We fall,
But we laugh on the way down.
When we get older,
We run to get away.
Away from the dark,
A fear we thought we lost when we grew up,
But we were wrong.
This is a different kind of dark.
One that, despite all the good,
Makes us run from the time when we were children,
The time we ran for fun.

With You by Lexi Morgan

Posted: May 30, 2014 by Lexi in LexieM

With you,
I found my place.
Anything we do,
As long as I’m with you,
I’m home.
With you,
I feel happy.
Driving with you,
Sights I’ve seen a hundred times fell new,
And I feel happy.
With you,
Nothing hurts.
I can fall all day,
But when I hit the ground,
A smile on my face, I say,
“I love you.”

Hymn for an Optimist by Lexi Morgan

Posted: May 30, 2014 by Lexi in LexieM

 

 

How do you tell a heart to hold on
When all that holds it together

Breaks?

How do you say
“It’s alright”
When the one thing you need is

Unattainable?

A life like that can’t be worth it, all that

Hold on.
It gets better.
Your glass-half-full gets fuller with every tear that

So smile,
Fake it until the joy deludes the

Fake it until your soul trickles down the sides of the glass like a

Just smile.
Smile until you’re strong enough to knock it

Down,

Water pooling on the constantly dirty kitchen floor,
Washing away all the

Screaming,
Sadness,
Hate.

Just smile.
Live in the walls around your heart a little while longer,
Then rejoice when you

Kick them down.

Relish in the dust and debris until you think you’ve built a small condo in your lungs,
Complete with a pool out back and a welcome mat that reads,

“Leave your glass-half-full at the door.”

Not because you’re tired of it,
Not because your hope is gone,
But because you’ve outgrown your glass like you outgrew your sippy cup.
Drink straight from the carton of life,
Get drunk on your happiness,

And always

Remember the puddle on your kitchen floor,
And the reflection of your fake smile in the dirty water.

Childhood is… by Lexi Morgan

Posted: October 24, 2013 by Lexi in LexieM, Uncategorized

Childhood is messy faces.
Childhood is piles of stuffed animals in the living room.
Childhood is picking dandelions like roses.
Childhood is watching a mother leave in a yellow-checkered car through tear-misted eyes.
Childhood is little plastic cars speeding down a hill.
And Childhood is being strong for the ones who can’t anymore.

Yellow and Gray by Lexi Morgan

Posted: October 24, 2013 by Lexi in LexieM, Uncategorized

I guess I’d say I’m gray-
Is that really that bad?
I’m soft and thoughtful,
And I’d like to think I’m comforting,
But who am I to say?
I guess I’m also yellow, though.
All nervous, self-aware, and shy.
Some people see yellow as positive,
But why, I wonder, can’t I?
It makes me antsy,
That outlandishly bright color.
That might be because I’m gray.
But in my personal opinion,
I’d take gray any day.

When I was young on the mountain, I wandered through the grass with my brother. We picked dandelions like roses, and our grandma treated them like roses when we gave our bouquets to her.

When I was young on the mountain, my grandma said, “Wink at me!” My brother and I closed both our eyes.

When I was young on the mountain, I sang happy birthday to everyone all at once from a high chair stained orange from spaghetti sauce.

When I was young on the mountain, I didn’t worry so much. I just picked flowers and sang with my mother.