poetry

Cold Coffee

Photo Jan 13, 4 13 40 PM.jpg

Empty spot by the window
Open hands
Wandering thought
The ins and outs of life
And cappuccinos
Why I cut my hair
When it grows long
I’ll try new habits
And call them rituals
Full of dreams and
New endeavors
But the seat next to me
Is no longer empty
It is full of you
Laughter and tears
Black coffee and
The smell of clean laundry
Pen marks I long
To capture on paper
To hold you
Just a moment or two longer
Or for one more sip
Of now cold coffee

-Em. O January 2018

selfie-8.jpg

Sometimes I wonder

Why I am trying so hard

To be someone I once was

(But honestly never was)

Why do we allow

Those who tried to fit us into

A box that was too small

To influence the way we live

These ghosts, a wisp of a past

That no longer exists

And I'm afraid of their scowl

The scolding e-mails

If I stepped off of the line

Someone with rules I never agreed to

Would click and send

It made me cringe then

And yet I still flinch

Afraid to fully show who I am

To use all my words

Fully be who I am

I want to grow

And not to feel

The weight and guilt that I no longer

Accept and choose to carry

I am me

Beautiful, messy, free, loving

A woman, a being, I am full of 

Dreams and desires, words and hopes

Do not look my way

And wish I was another

I am happy, and who I am meant to be.