100 WC – Challenging Death

A true warrior isn’t afraid of Death. Instead they challenge it.

Camila runs, she fights, she climbs, and she does whatever she pleases.

And no one can stop her. Not even death.

 

It was a cloudy night. The sky was dark, but hidden by ominous grey clouds watching everything below them.

Camila stood on the top of her mountain. An old tree, becoming slippery as buckets of rain fell.

Her foot slipped suddenly and she fell far down.

She knew death was waiting for her, but she refused, and landed with her life and a broken leg. Death waited for her below, but couldn’t do anything as she limped away.

100 WC – Bottles of Blue

Bottles of Blue.

For me it stays, tucked inside me

until I let it out.

But where would we hide it all?

 

For me, I let it out.

When I tell you 

My Bottle of Blue, turns…

a bit greener.

 

 

When you keep your Bottle tucked inside,

it grows.

Larger

Stronger

Sadder

 

When you let it out

it shrinks

smaller

weaker

happier

 

Come back

soon

later

Whenever

But when it does,

 

You can keep it

 

Or let it go

But you’ll always have a Bottle of Blue

Strong

Or weak…

 

 

Poem #3 Personification

5 things about the bug 🐜:

He darts under and over wooden panels. He hides from the boulder that is your hand.

He is the vampire of day and night, whom no one fears.

A rockclimber crawling up the smooth tan mountain of skin.

He is a fearless warrior, charging into battle, despite knowing the consequences.

Obnoxious yet persistent, determined for success.

Poem #2 Imagery

Home in my memory:

In my mind, I ask, what’s real and what’s not?

In my memory, the surroundings shift with time.

In my memory, with a flick of a switch, it floods in, the bright light letting me see.

In my mind I ask: What’s still real and what’s not. I beg it wouldn’t change with time. But it does.

In my life, I feel confused, amd I happy or sad? Angry? Or have the emotions not settled in yet?

Carpets and rough celings stay unshifted in my mind and I can still remeber the touch.

In my mind I ask, for the blurry memories what’s still real and what’s not?

By Brynn 🙂

(If you want to comment on the poem, I would really like feedback and your interpretations)

 

Poem #1 – I am the…

I am the strangr who you’ve only seen once passing you on the street, looking down timidly at my feet.

I am the cousin you barley know, regretting the times I barey adressed you.

I am the student who tries my hardest no matter how many times I seem to fall.

I am the friend you trust with your secrets, agreeing to give mine in return.

I am the daughter who you’ve watched grow, finally blooming from a seed to a flower.

I am Brynn.