We were walking on the beach, he and I,
the moon shone brightly in the black-colored sky.
We walked slowly, hand in hand,
letting our feet brush through the sand.
In the darkness, we saw a door.
We knew it was a door to love forever,
if we walked through it, we would always be together.
We tried to think, quick and fast,
when almost all of our time was past,
we ran to try and catch the door,
but when we got there, all we saw
were the waves crashing ashore.
*Author’s Note: I wrote this at the kitchen table while my mom was cooking. I don’t have a whole lot of lucid memories from my childhood, but this one is one of the clearest. I had just read through a bunch of my mom’s old poems from High School and I was inspired to write a love poem, even though all I knew about love at the time was from Madonna songs.*
This journal is going to be for publishing a small selection of my poetry, free writes, novel excepts, memoir excerpts, book reviews, and anything else that is more a piece of writing than an actual blog post. It will focus on things I don’t see being published elsewhere, a journal for writing that doesn’t worry about rules. My voice at its most raw, its most wild.
I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to follow me along if you do.
I’ll be posting things written from as far back as as age 7, because sometimes the things we write in our childhood are important, and sadly, most of them will most certainly never be published anywhere and the voice we had when we were young might not otherwise be heard. Child voices are naturally raw, naturally wild.
Comments are appreciated, especially if I’ve inspired you to pull out something you wrote when you were a child or when you were too broken and damaged to write something that could possibly be edited and included in a novel or anthology or literary journal.
This is a journal in homage to all the wild words we can possibly say.