Hannah Luben
Eons
We were stardust and trees,
nothing and everything in the universe and
most things in between.
Once upon a time you were a volcano but
now you’re afraid to dream.
Dreaming’s only the half of it because
you can’t run before you walk but
how do you learn to stand when
you catch a glimpse of the things you could never be?
Should you care to look instead of see
If the sun can even reach your smile
Let it, now, let it in like you used to.
If only you didn't have these dragging feet
And scraped knees.
Follow our constellations home.
Top
Even Ink
​
We are defined not by the spaces we filled, but by the voids we left.
Our shortcomings will be the death of us and of our memory,
Mere black holes in history and on paper.
In the end, life is but a race
To ensure the nothings we leave are small enough
To stain the memories of the youth,
The blinding blank youth,
The burning empty youth,
The youth that carries the future on broken backs,
Trudging along,
Dripping ink
And memories.
We have spent so much time trying not to be forgotten,
We have lost sight of those we remember.
And so, too, will the youth,
The future,
The sheet of pure white paper,
Forget us, the gaping fading black void filled with a billion handwritten verses of “remember.”
For even ink must crumble to dust.
Rain With A Chance of Cloudy
You made lightning dance across my fingertips
and glorious, thrilling hurricanes rage in my soul.
Tsunamis of sunshine and rainbows of pain
have become commonplace for me of late.
A spell that I could not break
for the life of me.
Now at least I know this much:
I am not whole.
I was broken from the start
but that much was obvious to you.
With blackened charcoal clouds on my mind
And shattered fractal windows for irises.
You set off gladdening fireworks in my heart
That burst a bubble of self-pity.
Not that it mattered, we were still
daisies in the gusting golden wind.
She lives she loves, she lives not, she lives she loves, she lives not, she lives she loves, she---
You plucked my petals one by one,
Like rabbits out of ten thousand hats
And somehow clear skies came
In the eye of my very own storm
With none to thank but myself
And your catalytic magic.
