Colorful Dreams, Making Sense, Insecurity or a Deeper Feeling
Poems Written by Aura Hendler
Author's Note:
Colorful Dreams and Making Sense are about my case of Social Pragmatic Communication Disorder and how I've navigated it and how I've constantly felt my whole life. Insecurity or a Deeper Feeling is about my gender dysphoria and how uncomfortable I am about voicing it, even with those closest to me like my parents.
The Insomniac’s Prayer
Let me
sleep, for I have done
nothing wrong
I am laying here
my eyes to the ceiling
staring at the bulb
where a light flickered out
at my demand
music is playing in my ears
and Melatonin is in my
veins
yet it is never enough
for my eyelids to feel heavy
let me drift to the
dimensions of dreams
and other subconscious epiphanies
let me not function
off of coffee and
caffeinated ginger tea with
honey
darkness, envelope me
with your crushing arms
coat my eyes with your
black glaze and let me
sleep
I am the insomniac
And this is my prayer.
Remembrance of a Friend
I am sitting in bed, tears in
my eyes
I am lonely
I have never felt this way before
despite my being alone all the time
What I wouldn’t give
to see that smile again
to hear that laugh
to see that skinny mass of darkness
that made me so bright
why didn’t you come back
Why must I
wish upon these stars
to hear those jokes
to see that smile
to feel completed
in a way that I haven’t felt in
so
many
months
since I’ve seen
you last
I wouldn’t care
if you were different
because it would still be you
and you are my friend
I still remember
how could I ever forget
us
out in the snow
trying to see who could last the longest
without their sweaters or coats
in the bitter cold
us
the time we built houses in
Minecraft to find the better builder
yet we couldn’t decide the winner
Will we ever?
us
with other friends
where we chugged down
tiny water bottles
to see who was the fastest
What I wouldn’t give to hear
your voice
remember your smile
never forget
your laugh
You are all I want to remember
I miss you so much
I am alone
I am lonely
but I will never forget you
Shut Up
I whisper softly to myself
to memorize a poem
to present the next day
I try to be quiet
and I know I’m loud-spoken
let me speak to myself
for you are louder than I could
ever be
you say shut up
to me while I work as quietly
as my memorization
allows me
I’ve learned not to care
about what you say when I go
into my own head or
talk to myself
so I won’t shut up
I won’t be quiet
because that hasn’t gotten me
anywhere and it
never will
Let me talk to myself
because I’m not
hurting you
even though you’ve hurt
me
Girl With The Music
Earbuds in the ears
Volume at 7.5%
Playing an already soft song
The lyrics and the music
A soft massage to the
Brain
The girl with that is me
Tracy Chapman,
Imagine Dragons,
Dido,
Marc Cohn,
Demi Lovato,
The Avett Brothers
All coax me to sleep
Every night
Far better than
Melatonin with my Insomnia
I want to share that
Inner peace
I want all to hear
I may have different taste
For my music, but this
Is what I need
Poking Roses
Fold into 4 and
4 quick folds
Another 4
Another 4
Pleat fold each corner
And half unfold
All 12 points
Now, by far the most
Fun, but
Potentially the most painful
Piece of my origami roses
Quickly stabbing that
Wire stem, covered with fluff
Through the nearly split center of
This rose
A quick puncture,
Like a scalpel through skin
The sharp wire tip pokes my finger
Roughly, but not quite hard enough
To draw blood
Like a light green, fluffy syringe
They are poking roses,
They are, but they are my
Marbled paper roses
Colorful Dreams
Why can’t I read
A face like a book
Why do I have to look for clues
Like a detective to
Find how someone feels
Eyelashes in clumps
Means tears of some
Variety, to which I’m always wrong
Slightly squinted eyes is
Happiness
Why can’t I just tell
I was already lagged to begin
With but
It’s a dream for me to read emotions
Like words on a page
But it’s a colorful dream
That is too far out of
Reach for me to see anymore
But I can sense things
Where no one else sees
It’s like they’re begging
For someone to see
I don’t scream for them
But people can scream
Feelings for me
I’m going to scream my feelings
I will try to see yours
I’m no empath because I am
Unable to see those emotions
That are supposedly so
Easy to see
Why can’t I understand
Why can’t I be like everyone
Else
Why must I go a hundred
Miles further
To see how someone simply feels
It’s no colorful dream that will
Come true
But I can imagine
I can dream a colorful dream
Chrysanthemum Scapegoat
I take my folders
Green and purple in color
And I sit on the bench outside
While half-listening to my
Classmates inside
I’m just folding a couple of
Chrysanthemums to educate my
Peers on the fine art of
Origami flowers
I see the Spanish teacher
Start to walk towards me
I signal for them to escape
But only one kid sees
He gets out and sits next
To me
And asks how to make
A Chrysanthemum, it
Seems staged I know, but
I’ll always help to keep
Everyone I can out of
trouble
I show him the steps and
The Spanish teacher appears
Oblivious to the fact
That I was the only one not
Breaking the rules
I’m a scapegoat, everyone
Else got yelled at
But us, all because
Of a hot pink
Piece of paper,
So elegantly folded into a
Chrysanthemum
My Garden of Eden
I have folded these elegant
Flowers, and I
Have a roll of painter’s tape
Yes, the adhesive is
Weaker,
Like my dream,
But it will not peel
The paint on the ceiling
And walls
I stab pipe-cleaners through
Every flower and tape them to my
Ceiling
The cosmos looks like a ceiling
Fan in the oddest place,
A bouquet of flowers,
Perfect for a funeral,
Sits by my bookshelf
Tied with a fluffy, black pipe cleaner
ribbon
A rainbow hydrangea perched
On the wall
With a green ribbon vine,
Constantly threatening to
Fall off
A yellow narcissus on my bookshelf
And a pink rose with a crane
Attached on the other side
A random, dark blue
Chrysanthemum grows
Above my dresser
An attention-demanding sunflower
Sprouting from
My door
Space-paper azaleas
Line the foot of my
Bed like a battalion of floral soldiers
Ready for battle
A rose vine spirals up and down
My lantern-like desk lamp
Several flowers are
Shoved into the red vase
But I still need more space
My room is an untamed garden
Of paper flowers
That grow from every surface
They sprout like weeds
And grow into beautiful
Blooms of
Gorgeous paper
Stay Up
All of those folds
Seemingly for nothing
The several yards of tape
All for nothing
I wasted so many resources
On keeping that flower
Up on the ceiling
Like a bright ceiling fan
The centre a gold,
2 petals, light pink
The other 4 petals
Turquoise and teal
Like the surface of the sea
The other, using 14 sheets of paper
One of each pattern,
And the 2 shades of green
I taped a dark green ribbon to it,
Maybe that would keep it from
Falling
But I failed, stay up
Stay up, stay up
Don’t fall like a
Stone to the
Bottom of a lake
Stay strong paper flowers
Sprout from the ceiling and walls
Like weeds in between
Stones
Stay strong, soul
Grow and blossom
Like all of those beautiful
Hand-made flowers
Drawings
I have my set of sketching
Pencils, 12B to 10H
It draws great things
Like my characters for stories
I’ll typically start a drawing with
My HB pencil, your average
Number 2 pencil.
I make the rough human form
Of one flying through the paper
On the floor
And add the lines to remove
The ellipse joints with my eraser
I add details to the
Clothes and face
I draw details into the background
Like falling books and papers and a couple of flowers
I move the sheets of paper to
My desk, and I pull out
A simple, black ballpoint pen and
Cover every line with the black
Ballpoint blood
I pull out my eraser again