It thrills me
The haphazard drumbeats
The hushed, excited whisper of the wind
Churning the leaves on the branches
This is a night for excitement
The rush of cool water down drainpipes
A rolling roar of thunder
The patter slows, then stops,
Then starts again.
How the rain washes away
I feel lightheaded
White light on the windowsill
Washing over the navy sky
A great murmur of crackling sound
The branches on the magnolia tree
Stark black, barely visible now
How much power must you feel,
Thunderstorm,
To give so much life
Take away
Frighten the people
Yet hold them in your embrace
Gently wrapping them up
In your light it lights up brighter than the day
How can you be so harsh, yet comforting
Wailing, tearing ripping, growling
Yet soft as silk
So empowered
The elements giving you strength
Wild I can only think of dark grey
No bland about this Abnegation
Thoughts are whirling away
Swirling by like leaves down brooks
The mind is a fickle thing when faced
With the bright glass eye
That
Dancing
Singing
Stabbing
Stinging
Storm.

The thing that I wish for most in life
A thing I yearn for constantly
Is an Adventure.
Getting As on your report card
Does not count.
Neither do
Projects
Homework
Responsibilities
Plans
Or walking ten feet into the woods behind the house.
The Adventure I seek
Is one where there are no plans
Or perhaps they go awry
In exactly the way where everything
Turns out to be grand.
To walk hundreds of miles
With a
Dwarf
An elf
Four hobbits
Two men
And Gandalf
On a Quest to destroy the Ring.
Maybe it is the greater purpose
Which I lack.
There is no true magic I can see in this world
So I delve into another
And another
Turning pages and
Pretending that I am part of that greater purpose though I am
An observer
Somedays I wish books could come to life.

Sweet dreams
Give me a chance
I don't understand
Why you won't
Give it a rest
I'm sleeping here
Don't interrupt my slumber
With your happiness
Because
When I wake up
I realize
You are only dreams
And when I wake up
You're no longer there
Leave but don't leave
Let me forget you
When the sunrise comes
So when it does
I'm left with only me
And the beautiful feeling
You bring
Sweet dreams

How could I forget?
Those times
When everything was bliss
That's all ignorance is
But now I've seen the light
And I
Can't forget those times
When everything felt right
No boundaries
No not trying hard enough
No trying too hard
It's difficult
To explain in words
Those times
When something small
Was the greatest thing
In the world
And I could fly on the swing set
Now I really have seen the light
And it's dimmer than I thought it would be
And I want what I shouldn't
I wish for what won't come true
Adventures are for others
I can't fly
My rusty wings dreaming
Of a chance to soar
I can't take it any more
We can never go back to before
What's this
This feeling of foreboding
I don't know what I anticipate
But it comes in a package labeled "Adulthood"
Where the responsibilities will be mine
But
Oh
What also will be mine
Is
Freedom.
That will be my savior
Wisdom
And freedom.
How could I forget?

I am Tiana
On my feet until I can't go any longer
Promising myself everything will be worthwhile
And that all my dreams will come true.
I am Merida
Trying to find my own path
Desperately trying to evade my fate
Staying brave for everyone, including myself.
I am Rapunzel
A little bit conflicted sometimes
Dreaming of an adventure
But not to betray what she knows.
I am Mulan
Willing to be unconventional
And ready to protect her home and family
From dishonor and shame.
I am Belle
Making the best of seemingly impossible situations
Searching for knowledge and beauty within words
Spreading light to the darkest of souls.
I am Elsa
Who just wants to be free
To be able to use her gifts
Without hurting the people she loves.
I am me
The girl who sang into a pink-and-white plastic karaoke machine
To "I Won't Say I'm in Love"
Who saw these women as strong and beautiful.
I am a princess
The author, main character, and narrator of my story
Dancing to the beat of her own drum
Taking life's problems and turning them into lessons.
I am a heroine in my own right,
Disney or no.

I've always had a fondness for gingers.
Don't ask me why.
Maybe it's the hair,
Whether it's sunset orange,
Dark auburn
Strawberry blonde
Or just plain red,
I love it.
But there is something within the people themselves
That just makes me go awwrr
And makes me want to hug the affected person,
Affected meaning, well,
Gingered.
That's a verb, right?
For example,
My three-year-old brother is a ginger, the only one in the family.
I like to call him any of the following:
Ginger Baby
Little Ginger
Baby Ging'
And really, really cute.
You've got to love gingers.

I keep staring
Tapping
Waiting
Refreshing
Hoping
For someone to like my poem
Or post
Or share.
I look at the vast number of people
Who have viewed other works
Liking
Commenting
And I want them to do the same thing
To my works
But I don't know why. When did
I start caring so much
About what strangers thought?