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I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.

Hannah Pearl

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
Write me as if I were already a poem. Pen the stanzas as if storms and ships could birth something sacred. Color it a religious experience.
HANNAH PEARL

Color Experience Poem Religious Sacred Storm Writing
The moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
HANNAH PEARL

Moon Offering Peace Sun
Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
HANNAH PEARL

Reading Word Yourself
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
Indigo child, you hid secret under graves, picked at the lamb stuck between teeth, felt around for monsters we once reaped. But the monster turned out to be free.
HANNAH PEARL

Children Freedom Grace Hide Monster Secret
I wish I could bottle up this scent for winter days when it feels like this town will never see sun again.
HANNAH PEARL

Myself Perfume Scent See Sun Winter
You are worthy of feeling incredibly and unapologetically alive.
HANNAH PEARL

Alive Apology Feeling Worth Yourself
I am hurting. I am angry. I am one hundred and thirty-two synonyms of regret, but atleast its proof that I was here.
HANNAH PEARL

Angry Hurt Myself Regret
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
Surely I could never be certain of how many stars I’ve counted in the sky or of how such tiny particles can be build into wild-eyed stories like Aquarius and Cassiopeia. I could read you as I would the constellations and never tire.
HANNAH PEARL

Count Myself Particle Reading Sky Stardom Yourself
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
There’s a mystery in you; a puzzle to solve- mystical elements to a love that you’ve longingly ached for.
HANNAH PEARL

Break Element Mystery Solve Yourself
You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
HANNAH PEARL

Enough Feeling Self Love Yourself
The autumn breeze carves out an ache in your memory.
HANNAH PEARL

Autumn Heart Broken Memories Yourself
I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.
HANNAH PEARL

Call Fall Impact Myself Right

I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.

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I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.

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