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When words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.

Hannah Pearl

My god is a moment, a whimsical idea, a whisper. A hope bending itself into a prayer.
HANNAH PEARL

God Hope Moments Myself Prayer
Needle in a haystack, a small town on a roadmap, searching for you through the abstract- how incredibly hard to find.
HANNAH PEARL

Find Hard Incredible Map Road Small Yourself
The moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
HANNAH PEARL

Moon Offering Peace Sun
Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.
HANNAH PEARL

Call Day Feeling Hope Light Mindset Myself Name Simplicity Stay
Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
HANNAH PEARL

Reading Word Yourself
I’m from a state that houses too many cornfields and a town that no one takes seriously- in a home where glass cuts hurt less than deeply wounded words.
HANNAH PEARL

Deep Home Serious State Word Wound
When words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.
HANNAH PEARL

Feeling Hate Myself Sport Try Word
I wait and wait and wait and god I am sick of waiting. To not see your face anymore. To not know the burden that belongs to you. To not imagine the window I looked through the night I found out.
HANNAH PEARL

Burden Face God Myself Night Sick Wait
You ever stare at something so long the colors blend together? Even the most neutral tones take on a life of their own, fold themselves into shapes that morph into creatures – wolves and goblin.
HANNAH PEARL

Color Creature Dee Life Philosophy Stare Togetherness Yourself
If I had a wishing well, I’d wish you well. That the skies hold the key to all you’ve ever wanted, with or without me.
HANNAH PEARL

Hold Key Myself Sky
It’s time for me to dust off this weary heart so that I may open it to one whose only open to me. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone and it’ll be too late.
HANNAH PEARL

Heart Late Missing Open Time Yourself
The autumn breeze carves out an ache in your memory.
HANNAH PEARL

Autumn Heart Broken Memories Yourself
I haven’t wept for days, only shuffling feet, carrying weights, ignoring the pain, numbing the face. Its all a charade.
HANNAH PEARL

Carry Day Face Hard Time Ignorance Myself Pain Struggle
Caution! This vehicle stops quite frequently when overwhelmed.
HANNAH PEARL

Anxiety Feeling Quite Stop
I waited, quietly listened, cupped my ear to your mouth, but silence echoed grievously in the absence of sound. It was only warm breath and then emptiness.
HANNAH PEARL

Breathe Empty Grief Listening Myself Quiet Silence Sound Wait
What a shame – how the taste of you could rot even the cedar and cypress. How you fooled the redwood into believing narcissus’ pond was made for two.
HANNAH PEARL

Believe Fools Shame Taste Water

When words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.

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When words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.

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Popular Authors

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