These pieces are part of a poetry collection I am working on, titled Growing Pains, centered around the theme of finding your identity as a growing woman, and all of the insecurities and anguish that comes along with it. These poems represent how I have felt lost and disillusioned as I have grown in and out of my adolescence, which is a subject that can resonate with many young women. I incorporated several elements of nature in order to represent these feelings, as well as to show that the pain that comes with youth is natural and constantly evolving.
I Remember the Trees
my legs feel short
hitting the pavement with a heavy heart beat
and the trees make me minuscule
their arms extended towards me
but my fingertips are too small to reach theirs
they can’t pick me up like they used to.
i remember being their height
curving and stretching far beyond their capacity
i remember making them sway with my movement
far into the forest i became high like the trees
and for the first time
they were the ones admiring me.
it’s almost as though i lost my movement
as the wind grew more fervent,
and as i induced myself to believe that i could with stand it,
but all that’s left of me is a heavy head
and compact limbs.
The Kissing Tree
we sat atop a hill with a grey cloud releasing its tears on us
splayed on the hood of your car.
no care for the droplets sinking into the fibers of our clothing
on Morrow and Speer there stood a tree
tall and thick,
spread like welcoming arms
inviting the glittering lights on the horizon
to greet our pupils
and as we fixed our vision on the twin trunks
the left side grew a face
then the right did the same.
we saw two lovers emerge in the trunk,
only inches apart from intertwining lips
and we thought their love would be
But now all that's left is two stumps
And their longevity reduced to circles.
my vision gets blurry if i stare at the stars for too long
they slow start to fade from their natural hue
and dissipate into the black of the sky
dissolving into my pupils
and burning into a void that i can’t draw them out of.
it feels as though my fixation on matter
has grounded me farther into the earth
until i’m buried in dirt,
lost in coarse ground
as the particles fill my lungs.
yet i keep finding loopholes in my own conscience
that levitate me to their altitude.
am i too disillusioned to distinguish
whether i am gravitating towards them,
or merely hallucinating?
These are from my photo shoot with a sustainable clothing business in Charleston, South Carolina called TintedSaga. This was my first time working all these girls and all the clothing is all naturally hand dyed. I honestly don't think it could have been more perfect of a day. It was very fun and liberating as a female photographer.