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My Poems

By @watermelon6

The Door

I miss him.

My mom says: “He’s still in our hearts.”

My dad says: “I do too, but we have to move on.”

My big sister just ignores me, rolling her eyes.

I stop at his bedroom door.

That hasn’t been opened since it happened.

Since the day the world collapsed.

I slide down it

Until I’m sitting on the floor

Resting my back against his door

My sister comes in front of me

as tears slide down my cheeks.

I expect her to scold me.

Or just ignore me.

But she joins me.

My moody teen sister sits with me

In front of my little brother’s door

That hasn’t been opened since the world collapsed

And we hug

and cry

and sit there together.

Blue Skies 

I look up at the sky. Like I always did. Like I always will. And I imagine him.

How I sat in his lap as he flew.

How he smiled whenever he saw me.

How we would lay here whenever he was here,

The TV, showing his plane in flames.

The food and gifts and visitors and black clothes.

My mom sobbing.

I trace a cloud that looks like a dog. He always loved looking at the clouds and the big, blue sky. His deep, kind voice comes back to me.

”Those are your blue skies, Kat,” he would say, laying on this very spot in the front yard.

“But there’s only one sky!” I replied one time. He grinned and put an arm around me.

He left the next day.

And never came back.

”Daddy,” I whisper out loud, reaching up.

And for a moment I could almost swear I can see his face in one of those clouds, high up in those blue skies.

My blue skies.

My daddy’s blue skies.


It’s all black

I’m falling

down, down, down

I take one look at the starry sky

and shut my eyes tight

bracing for impact.

But nothing comes.

I open my eyes

Looking up at the blue-black-purple sky

I look down

and find I’m on a cloud

A cotton candy pink cloud.

I step off

onto a new cloud.

But I realize I’m up

Not down

Didn’t I fall?

It doesn’t matter.

This is beautiful.

And somehow

I know

I’m safe

There’s no angel chorus

no sprawling fields to stand in

no hall with feasts and ancient warriors

Just quiet happiness. 

And I lay back down

on my cloud bed

and close my eyes.

And it’s all black



A perfect world

With no hate

Only love.

With no tears

Only smiles.

With no discrimination

Only acceptance.

With no bad guys

Only heroes.

Where people take care of others.

And tell each other “You are loved”

And hold hands and hug

And everything is perfect.

But without hate

Love has little meaning.

Without tears

Smiles aren’t comforting.

With no discrimination

Acceptance isn’t an act of support.

Without bad guys

The heroes are useless.

The world isn’t perfect

And none of these things are good

But bad things happen for a reason.


I smile

and laugh

and act happy.

But it’s all a disguise

a costume I’ve worn for a long time.

I gossip with the girls

and flirt with the boys.

I’m not like that.

But I pretend I am.

My mom always said I was a free spirit.

I would run in the backyard

I never wore dresses

I raced the boys – and won

I hated talking to girls my age

with their prissy talk and full dresses.

And then Mom got sick

and Dad told me to shape up.

So I did.

I’m the popular girl with pink dresses and too much makeup.

The one who never runs

The one who nearly fails her classes, despite knowing all the answers

And Dad likes me.

But I don’t like me.

And today, I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt under my dress.

and I’m running to the bathroom before recess.

So I can change out of my costume.

And show everyone who I really am.

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