Literary Yard

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‘Rambunctious’ and other poems by Lauren White

By: Lauren White



I’m feeling rambunctious
Yearning for reprieve from this restive existence
In a transient state
I watch my muscles twitch, twiddle, troll the air
Looking for something to grasp
So that I don’t have to remember
Reimburse me for the time I wasted on you
Since I received nothing else from you
All this time I was stuck
In a romanticized, false reverie of you
Today I removed the rose-tinted spectacles
The radiant resplendence I fell for
Has been reduced to the raucous cries
Of a simple, uncomplicated man
Who believes himself of reputable character
But on the inside is reeking and rancid
And I realized, finally
I don’t want you



Whiskey courses warm through my veins
I’m trying to numb the pain of your deception
To wash myself of your filth
Soap and water just won’t do
And I don’t like ice in my liquor
You both must’ve had a good laugh at me
She knew about me
You knew about me, of course
You promised me you wouldn’t
But you did and she did
No remorse from either of you
And afterward you came to me
Begging on hands on knees
Not to lose me
I was your drug
My honesty was your heroin
My kisses your Mary Jane
I made you feel what no one else did
I am magic
Enhancing your existence
What kind of person must you be
For magic not to be enough?


Wax Chaotic

Nothing on my heart
That is…
Nothing that I would want to share
No words to weave into verse
No life experiences to turn
Into metaphors or similes
No alliteration, onomatopoeia
No limericks to make you laugh
No sonnets to make you cry
No basic English concepts
That would suffice
For waxing poetic to the masses
My creative bones are funny today
Nothing on my heart
Plenty on my mind
Memories that will not die
Waxing chaotic on my soul


Solitude, finally

Solitude kills me
Buries me in an unmarked
Grave in deep shadow

Six feet under dirt
Mind alive but soul is dead
Slowly losing air

Light footsteps above
Do not shout, make no movement
A hide no seek game

Don’t even panic
Becoming accustomed to
My new lot in life

Ha, no pun intended
I’m still a dark humored bitch
Even in death

Do not cry for me
There’s nothing for me above ground
I’ve found solace here

There are no masks worn
Solicitous small talk
Smiling at strangers

Just honest here
Arms crossed over half-beating heart
Content in this lot



Autumn Heart

My heart has fallen to pieces
Like Autumn leaves from dying trees
Soon to crackle and disintegrate
Or lie on the ground
Waiting to be stepped on
Waiting for winter
Waiting for some shaky peace
Waiting for anything but the monotony of waiting
But soon the snow will melts
The flowers will come out in vivacious colors
The trees will sprout green again
And with them my autumn heart will bloom once more



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