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Sophmore Year

Junior Year

Senior Year

~☆~

Small Poems

The Beginning Why such sorrow at the turning of a page? Alone, let go, engage. Blind mist shows the way; blind of night in day. Each breath I take I long to breath. Let Go. Let Go. Let Go. I long to breath. But I'm feeling alone when nobody's home... -Emrayla S.

City by the Stars Soft night in a sharp city: stars too far to reach; remind me that my home is there from forest to quiet beach. Sharp city of the lightning sparks: teach me your paradox; remind me how to find my way and reach in to blackened box. Soft sirens in the cold of night, Steal concrete by the bay, an endless task of reaching hands; please, tempt me everyday. -Emrayla S.

A Poet's Addiction Post-it notes on sticky fingers; written words on pale faced skin; little drawings on a notepad; faces seen through thick and thin. A scramble for an empty surface, on the napkin in one hand; Just one more word kept from forgotten; Just one more thought while I walk this land. Attention drifting from all others: obsession, with beauty, I commence; Chaos, riddles, love and sadness-- I write a story that won't make sense. But I can't stop writing; words fly like rain. And again I feel your soft presence, and the presence of past again. And as I walk through a window, in the middle of a crowd, as I'm free from existence in my own distant zen, I want to say, that that's what you get for giving a poet a pen. -Emrayla S.

My Reflection There's a smudge on my mirror, where I often rest my head. There are bruises on my toes, where I often fear to tread. There are glass shards; broken bottles, that are lying on the ground; yet the red dripping from them- quickly spinning round and round. I flinch at the words you raise high above my head; I am scared to death you'll let them fall And knock my mind out dead. Please hide me from this cold cold rain; it freezes out my heart. It's hit me way too much before and crushed my cold cold heart. -Emrayla S.

Dancing Like a Fool I year ago I had a plan: a brilliant plan, about my life. And I sang like angels if I ever sang; and life was simply perfect. A year ago my life was grand; a beautiful known cliché. I knew what there was to come every moment waking day. But you asked me to dance and I refused, because it was not perfect; and you asked me to smile but I said I wouldn't, because my smile was crooked. So a day ago, after many days, I threw perfection away; it was getting to be a burdensome thing, and I danced the night away. And I smiled and I danced and I didn't care, and when I sang, I laughed; and I didn't know what was to come; and life, was finally, perfect. -Emrayla S.

Late in the Journey I feel like Donnie Darko in his count down to end it all and here is silence For the first time the quiet was peaceful In that night of the dark glowing screen and all was music I hummed walking down a mountain today Thinking how LJ told good stories About the ones I care about And I fell for a boy who's just like me and who's kind and deep and makes me laugh And breaking from the pattern: I stared out the window on the bus back and I saw a road that for a second made me think I was home And it seemed just natural that you were there-- two familiarities. I laughed and went to tell you, but then I realized you weren't there and it was lonely so I left home again to lean on your arm back on the bus in the cold Irish night, And I never felt warmer. -Emrayla S.

Half Smile How do you do a half smile when typing? This day...this one very long day; is almost gone. It makes me sick. moments photographs lessons and you gone before they're there I feel so sick. Please someone wake me up before this pergatory swallows me. I can't let go of this icicle even though I'm frozen even though it hurts even though my heart's stopping Someone... please help Let me go and hold me tight. -Emrayla S.

Falling in Confusion Just go to bed, right? That's easy enough. But why am I so tired? I'm not even thinking anymore. I think it's like falling; you don't comprehend, you don't control, till you hit the ground. So delusional. Pick yourself up. Does part of me what this? is that why it's so hard? Does part of you want to fall? Is that why you won't catch yourself? So you feel the sting... on the ground on the ground and what do I hear when I'm in this state right now where this is hardly reality and this is hardly writing and I don't look back and I keep writing with no end to speak of becasue I don't want to depend on that Damien Rice... I havn't heard them since the day I got here the day I said goodbye the day I cried and woke up and didn't know where I was becasue saying goodbye is so hard and being alone is so hard and missing love is so hard and everything feels so hard but it shouldn't but it couldn't my mind can't correct what it doesn't want to look at please look past this let me sleep let me see where I'm falling and catch myself. And write this for no one else but me. -Emrayla S.

Feck It's one of those days one of those blast-the-music-so-loud-it hurts days bacause all I want to do is drown it out burn it out let it die give me a headache and kill my ears because I want to kill what they're hiding. Just Fuck it!!! I don't give dam Just forget it... I want it gone I want my mind to die and it's thoughts even if I'd never actually do that kill it I mean but that doesn't mean I can't punish that doesn't mean I can't do everything in my power to slam it against a wall till it SHUTS UP. Ignoring them isn't going to do the trick Anger, sadness, they were always friends of mine since they were so dependable You know what to do and what your doing when you're mad you know how to feel hurt, how to cry, how to slam your foot...or your head, against a wall It's so much more simple than trying to hide hide from all that's hurting edge away from the acid rising give up jump in at least then you're in control no quivering here. haha. I sound like such a sadist? masochist? Whatever. I miss it. So much... easier. -Emrayla S.

Somewhere in Between Sleep makes the senses grow weary, but I will make this simple; I heard the accents fade before my ears, leaving me standing here leaving me thinking here, but I couldn't answer where was home, because one was faded; and the other gone. -Emrayla S.

Better Rad Remember when he greeted you-- Dingle, Diablo, DS. Remember what he did for you-- Heated, hugged, and caress. Remember how you remember him-- A smile, a sad heart, and a laugh. Remember terms that made it fun-- copy-cat, rad, and pillow fun. I don't want to remember he's far away-- The sweetest boy in Dripsey land. Please let the sadness slip away without his warm and loving hand... I will miss you. -Emrayla S.

Small Roots Fading For the first time this morning I didn't say hello I felt you slipping from me and I just let you go; I'm afraid that if I hold too tight you'll clear me from your memory. If I were to lose that, than that's all that's left of me. But you'll forget, anyways, my touch and weary eyes; because it is the better thing, At least, for teary eyes. -Emrayla S.

Why Did You Hurt Me? I feel so betrayed scared scared by you something I thought could never happen I gave you so much showed you so much but it wasn't enough it wasn't enough but this is enough for me. How am I supposed to let this role over? you got inside me without permision. you became a virus that I had welcomed. And I'm left crumbling inside feeling the curtains shut never to be opened again. -Emrayla S.

What I Can Wait For I want to know what's on your mind. Just tell me one more time. Those treasured words, so sweet and kind. Just tell me one more time. You say, "I just can't," But I hear them still... A whisper on the wind. I want to say them back to you but I can't; my voice has thinned. I can't reply, until I know; please tell me if you can... I need to hear those words from you So tell me... one more time. -Emrayla S.

Distance Like a ghost I hear your voice. Out of reach but so so close. Weeks ago I felt that voice; Out of reach yet oh so close. Months from now, I'll hear that voice; So close, so close but how close? -Emrayla S.

Optimism Angel I need a guy who's a little bit crazy; someone to convince me I can fly with these wings. I need a guy to say I'm nuts but I'm worth it, because today's nut --is tomorrow's tree. I need him to be there when I leave on a dime, or dream of a heaven, or beat father time. He needs to tell me I'm special. Fly away with my dreams; Show me I'm special through the wildest dreams. But maybe it's not obvious that I have wings at all; forget it, I'm stupid, and I'd rather just f a l l . -Emrayla S.

A Little Boy from Home with an Irish Name I spent this morning running round in circles, making faces, and interpreting the nonsense words that he told me. He seemed so confident in his phrases a little one and a half year on the floor. He smiled at me in understanding, and I asked him what he meant, but his only answer was to return to his magni-doodle, and stuff an apple slice in his mouth. He can now drive his three-wheeled bike around; he's learned a lot since I last taught him how to fit one cup in a bigger one. He now knows how to move forward, stop, turn, and move again. If obstacles betray him he stops to move them. And I wonder what I have learned, in these months he's learned so much. I've learned how to move forward, how to stop, turn, and move again. Though I'm still learning about the obstacles. I think he has me beat. And I return home to my hectic life; trying to face the obstacles. All the while listening to words I cannot understand, written on many LJ posts; And I spend my evening running round in circles, making faces, and interpreting the nonsense words that he tells me. -Emrayla S.

What Clings Despite the Rain The rain refreshes the wind outside, yet does not clear my mind. Poetic verses flow to my mind, but I cannot let them out. --Instead the images cling to me: dreams that will not leave; arms I will not touch; smiles I cannot see. Warm heat runs through my fingertips with each attempt at feeling what is not there. The more I think about it--the more I feel that these dreams will not fade. The more I feel-- that what I feel could possibly, just maybe, is... -Emrayla S.

Daisy Waiting for the Sunset The pieces just keep falling away... Like part of my soul imprisoned somewhere else. Like a flower uprooted It withers. Petals fall as she feels her starvation. And somehow she knows that a month is going by much slower than she'd hoped. -Emrayla S.

Visions Through a Telescope So reflecting in the mirror let's enlighten. Circles, flaws in the provisions, have us frightened. Simple light bounces back; simple tones from white to black and it's all set in tack; trust the eyes and don't look back. But they forget the distortion; bend the mirror and observe: There's more behind the silver backing than the simple answer likes to serve. When one thinks one has an answer and the answer turns to two, what do you do? Seems so simple: black to bright, in the starry silent night, that the colors start to fight for what each side thinks is right. But what each side, and sight, forget is that their vision's foggy yet and the view is hard to get when looking though one tiny hole. -Emrayla S.

Pieces Reflected Every night I can, I eat burgers in the dining hall-- not that I love burgers, but that it's what they serve past dinner. And past dinner is bed time in Ireland. I like staring out the dining hall window at lunch time. The campus lawn is decorated with students with L.L. Bean backpacks, reminding me that I'm with people like me again. But they're not totally like me. "Late in the Journey" gets to me a lot lately... I've read it a few times. It's more like a reversal effect now I guess, but I still feel the same way So many things I want to say... so desperately... but I must ...wait. -Emrayla S.

Forever Quicksand It's like... sinking where you can't see where you fell from or where you're going you just go slowly you feel suffocated like you need to breath again you need to feel ground again you need to feel earth like- I'm sitting here, right? Online contacts open but there's a hole right under far away friends and in my heart. I miss that name that simple warm name that when it's gone it feels like quicksand. I want to feel what I feel what I feel what I feel! Because... It's solid ground to me; and the earth smells like summer rain. -Emrayla S.

Mixed CDs and Pomegranate Juice A handful of moments while you were here, back in the distance forever disappear. My mind longs for tangible moments, but what it finds is not you. I hate my dreams that drift that way; to a male who's soft touch my mind has gone astray. When will I have those moments- with you? When will my mind be full of you? touches soft in the night-- moments take flight. When will my skin feel what my heart forever does? More formulated calculated Pom bottles with painted hearts remind me that one moment of you is never enough. -Emrayla S.

That Night There is a glow about the room, something soft like rabbit fur; it's warm breath melts around the room: a fire, sheltered, and warm. She lays on the bed; silk describing how she's feeling; her curves are held in the blankets. And he leans over in silent pause. Fresh night air drifts through the window. This is the moment when voices stop laughing, this is the moment where glasses stop clinking, this is the moment- this is the moment- where A held breath turns into two. His leaning form, protecting all he cares about, glows in the dream light; Then slowly he starts to move. Silently, slowly, eyes staring at perfect compatibility, he begins to move. And two halves fade into shadow. -Emrayla S.

Simultaneous hickups in the form of words sun shine and freezing cold Make the day be gold --or silver blue black like velvet- not coal soft and bitter sweet. Light refractions quick transactions Mix the world up on purpose and walk sideways. bullet train flashes pass like mirrors. Make them stand out. Stand out and up and everywhere. -Emrayla S.

Caving Inward Itchy, twisty throats that close; headache doze; Nose down lows. Feeling like explosives: need to move need to bloom need to BOOM! But black bullets zoom... and the red, holds us still. -Emrayla S.

Computer Bits It's truly logical, with a bug, virus, pop-ups again and again. The error in the system, error: repeat error: repeat error...over heat. ...feel defeat. Pop-up again, and again. Try to be calm; try to be logical; search the code and don't explode. No fault. Every fault. It must be a different language. And again; and again; and again; I'm infected. -Emrayla S.

Something Warmer than Wine In Love is: Velvet leaves, spinning gravitational loops over sensitive skin. It's something that can't be faked. Fingertips running down your back; soapy water washing dishes-- filled with kisses. Feeling like... one kiss is not enough to get you through the process of choosing dinner. Maybe it tingles; it has to tingle! And I swear that in the dark your lips would spark! And I would cry to not tell you that I love you. -Emrayla S.

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