The People In My Mind and Memories

I guess this is the start of it all.....

The People In My Mind and Memories: Poems for people I think of (non-specific)

Should have specified this, I'm aiming to write 1 poem a day at minimum for the month of April, just for funzies.

4/1/26

that boy:
“That boy hates the rain,” I had heard before.
He hates the rain, and he hates it more when it’s pouring down, lighting in the sky.
He hates the rain.
It depresses his mind.
~
He hated flowers too, their scent bitter to him.
They made him sick, so he never kept them.
I knew this, and still I had asked.
I didn’t expect anything after that.
~
“He hates dark colors,” I heard soon after.
I understood and tried to be more vibrant.
Anything for him, I really just wanted his attention.
I tried to dye my hair to be red, just so he’d see.
~
But it doesn’t matter, no matter what happens, I seem to be nothing.
But even so, I’ll sit on my porch.
“That boy hates the rain,” I’ll think.
And I’ll watch it pour.

4/2/26

I can't:

4/3/26

A woman:
"A woman's job is to sit quietly,
She does not speak, she isn't to be heard."
She had said it so quietly that time,
But I didn't understand, for I was barely 5.

"You're growing now, and men will stare.
You need to cover up."
She said it with such force,
Fear was the reason I followed the course.

"Soon, you'll see, women need to be moderate.
Keep your chest hidden, only show when they ask."
I stared at her as she spoke, confused.
It's my body, it's for my eyes, and she say's they'll want a view?

I didn't understand her warnings until,
I hit the fair age of 12.
Men got confident when bored,
and I was naive still.

Until I was 14, I dismissed it as normal.
15, I realized it wasn't.
16 I felt uncomfortable,
and 17, I chose to avoid it.

A woman is what I am.
Not what I chose to be, I was born with it.
A woman who is losing her dignity,
because men don't understand a boundary.

A woman.
A woman is what I am.
And God, in this world,
I wish I were a man.

So, I died for about 4 days. BUT I'M BACK! SOOOO NAPO TIME! Let's catch up!

4/4/26

Thunder:
Light strikes across the sky,
A loud bang following after.
The house shakes, the windows groan,
and the rain fell faster.

As a child, I used to run.
Used to hide under the covers.
I used to cry, used to whimper,
used to think it was all over.

Then, my brother yanked my blanket away.
My brother took my hand.
"Stop crying, don't fight.
It's just God taking a picture."

Now I stand on my porch,
My roommate beside me.
Cups of coffee in our hands,
The rain fell soothingly.

We'll talk, ramble on.
I'm never home, at least, not often.
So in the spring, we'll take the time,
to simply catch up.

The thunder screams, the lightning strikes,
and we'll pause our conversation.
"Hello, God." "Good evening."
The thunder was his greeting.

4/5/26

Spoiler

THIS poem is specific.

Violet:
I. Miss. Her.
My thoughts seem to scream at me.
I. Love. Her.
"I know, but think realistically."

I miss her smile, I miss her laugh,
I miss her eyes,
I miss that she's what I used to have.
And I can't get her back.

She's dangled over my head,
Her name used like a crime.
"Violet this," "Violet that,"
Stop saying "Violet" and be honest instead.

I want to be a good aunt.
I want to be there for her.
I want to be what she needs,
I want to care.

For Violet.
Not for her mother.
It's for Violet.
It's all for her.

4/6/26

Blurry:
Heart. Beat. One, two, three. Keep going. Keep pumping. The same constant steady sound keeps my feet on the ground.

I should've known the day it happened, that perhaps life didn't like us together. The day I heard you needed the surgery, I was quite absent. I wasn't there, but then again, I was mad. You weren't there when my leg was broken.

But here I am, after hearing the tale. Hearing how your heart stopped pumping. I heard how you fell to the ground, your heart no longer caring. But I give a damn.

I traveled quite a while. 4 hours to be exact. So I won't leave, even if those doctors make me. Because I need to make sure your heart is still beating. I need to make sure your pulse is steady, even if the machine is doing it for me.

I need to know your still alive, my head on your chest, your hand in mine. I'll close my eyes. Heart. Beat. One, two, three... Keep going, keep pumping. Please, don't leave me.

"Still alive. You're still alive," I'll say, even as my vision goes fuzzy. Blurry. The lines are blurry.

Just what exactly are we?

4/7/26

Candle:
I'm counting. Or rather, it isn't me, it's the calendar.
It feels like a death wish when it gets closer.
As of today, I have 10 more days,
Until I get older.

I don't think of age as a daily occurrence,
I don't think of it as a minutely thing.
It's annual. It's a milestone.
It's all about the timing.

Down to the exact minute, I have to be specific.
If it's not specific, it isn't accurate.
When did I get this obsessive?
When did the memories shift?

The only birthday I can remember,
Was way back when I was 6.
That strawberry cake was so disgusting.
I ate it anyway.

I remember blowing out the candles,
That stupid tiara on my head.
I was 6, then I was 7,
Then the memories shift.

I can't remember 8 or 9,
I can't remember 10.
I barely remember 11, then,
I think I remember 14, but since,

I don't remember my birthday parties.
I don't remember my friends.
The faces are blurry, as are the voices.
And the candles are melted.

The candles. Right, the candles exist.
I like to watch the flame fight,
It wants to breathe, but I'll suffocate it.
I won't let it burn bright.

Candles.
All the candles of my life.
Candles.
Candles of life.

A pair of poems, just for fun! <3

1: the lights are off.
the lights are off.
it's dark outside.
the candle flickers.
the wax is melting.
~
did you care,
when i asked,
"is it fair,
that you left?"
~
did you really,
love me when,
i was dying,
in my bed?
~
did your heart swell,
when i asked,
you to be,
my lover?
~
the lights are off.
my mind is blank.
the candle flickers.
i regret everything.

2: The Lights Are On.
The lights are on.
The sun is up.
The flowers blossom.
The clouds are gone.
~
I cared more than you think.
But you didn't like my response.
~
"I love you a lot,
You know that.
But this? Us?
It just won't last."
~
I really loved you,
when you called me sick.
I really loved you,
when you were broken in bed.
~
But I was thinking towards the future.
I was thinking for the better.
~
The lights are on.
My heart is open.
I miss you.
And I'm sorry for it.

IIII died again. Got a nice old cold. So, it's time to catch up. LESS GOO!

Also,

Spoiler

Alliyah, yes! They are from the PoV of 2 people, one who doesn't understand why they split up, and the other who had tried to explain.

4/8/26

Opinions:
Don't you find it interesting,
How people will have an opinion,
About almost anything,
Anything at all.

They voice it,
Even if you don't care.
"Oh, you didn't ask?
Oh well, I'll still share."

Sometimes, they go blind,
To the thought that their words hurt.
They go numb to the sensation,
Of guilt in their life.

Sometimes, I wish,
People would have a zipper.
So when you know it's boiling up,
You can silence them quicker.

End it before it starts,
Your opinion matters, yes,
But it really only matters,
When we ask.

Opinions.
Keep them to yourself.
Think before you speak.
That way, we will ask.

4/9/26

Quit:
I'm tired.
I'm sick.
I'm tired.
I can't.

I want to reach out,
To hold a hand,
But I'm tired,
And I can't bother,

To lift my hand,
To hold yours,
To call you pretty,
Is far too much.

Why would I,
Try my hardest,
To make you happy,
When,

All you do,
Is sit and complain,
That I'm not good enough,
For you.

So, I'm tired.
Mentally and Physically.
I'm sick,
To the pit of my stomach.

Quit.
Stop.
Let go.
Run.

You are not,
The one I want,
So quit it.
Stop asking.

I'm tired.
I'm sick.
I'm tired.
I give up.