Paperweight Poetry

You were the one  The highest reach of love a human can be The kind of love that poets have dedicated their lives to writing about And people have pined over tales about But no one could ever quite be  Until you And you were the love that made us all believe in love In a love where there is no conditions, no fears,  No end.  You were the one.  A love that stretches past time, wraps around its corners And laps infinity time and time again Yet never tires and never asks for  anything in return The story of a hero with a rise but not a fall You were the one  Because your love has never left, never abandoned It holds true time and time again Thank you for showing me that fairytale love exists And that it isn't always a prince on a white horse  For sometimes it is the warm touch of your grandmother  Telling you stories until you fall asleep   You were always the one, Grandma You are the one.  ...

Hello loves! I just wanted to let you know that I created a YouTube channel for my slam poetry and I would ADORE it if you could check it out. My channel is called "Paperweight Poetry" so you can either type it in to the search bar or click on the two links below for my first two videos. May you have a day of loveliness, my dears. Your aspiring poet, Anna https://youtu.be/Fia-XcOcXbQ https://youtu.be/C8GER4XRGTg

Each tooth is a stitch in a rag doll smile  Every fingernail a shard of glass that I broke Each stretch mark a grisly burden that inches on for miles Every breath in the cold night a reminder that one day I'll turn to smoke. -anna sluder

Mama used to tell me to close my eyes And think of the egg colored house with blue shutters  Where we sat on the white picket fence and watched the sun rise And fell asleep in our beds as the moon turned to butter  And instead of eating one dollar burgers and fries We would play all day in the green lawn And at night Mama would feed us lasagna and pies  And instead of sleeping from bench to park  Mama would tuck us into warm blankets And the next day we would awake in our beds to the sound of meadowlarks And on the days that I struggled to see the egg colored house with blue shutters  Mama would say look with your heart and not with your eyes Yet as the image didn't come clearer and the days ran together I realized that Mama had raised me in a house of lies.  -anna sluder