Paperweight Poetry

This is an anthem to any person who ever felt small; I see you. I hear your silence loud and clear like the church bell that forgets to ring, you and I, the ones who have been tightened and flattened and rolled into a ball like the notebook fringe between sweaty child fingers, who have felt as nuisance as jars of flitting paper chads, we are as big and as beautiful as the dawn. But if it takes you awhile to see yourself as the sun sees morning dew, then I will tell you this, to any person who ever felt small; I see you and we'll be small together. -anna sluder 

I was dark and so we ran, wearing only white socks that circled around my ankles like whirlpools, I'm scared of how fast days seemingly slip by like water like how you know a river by its name forgetting that it only ever once was a few raindrops because you believe raindrops are different from rivers that life is the same as daydreams. I fear that I have sewn memories I cannot remember with patches of fiction because anything is better than a thousand abysses in my mind, like instrumentals between the words, I am here for the words, some are here for the music, but we are running in white socks on brown paste slopes and I need words, the raindrops and not the rivers to tell me what is real. -anna sluder

One of these days I'm going to stop being afraid of roads other than mine that lead to the same place, and maybe that day will be today, or maybe it will be the day that the tigers get me, and I won't know if they come to bare their teeth or if they come to lead me, and I don't think I care. -anna sluder