applejuicepoems

my personal poetry blog

[applejuicepoems]

When time drags on

and my mind

drums idly,

I find my hands

tracing

the shape of you.

I’ve not felt,

just observed,

but I’ve stared

long enough to

remember the curve

of your lips,

and if I’m left with a

pen in my hand

the hook of your nose

comes easily.

It’s embarrassing

to admit, but I just

can’t help it.

My stomach flutters

every time you

touch me,

something you’re doing

more often lately.

Touch me again, please,

again and again.

I’d love to trace you

with my fingertips

this time.

[applejuicepoems]

On the cheek

I want you

to want me, but

I don’t want to say

anything about it

because I’m scared.

I’m always scared to

say anything about it,

so I just

let it fester and

hope that something

grows from it,

though I often find

that it just withers out.

I heard that you’re

talking to someone,

but I don’t know

if that means

talking talking or

just talking.

Not that it’s any of my business,

I just wish I had

gotten there first.

Sometimes I feel like

there’s something going on,

but other times

I feel like

I’m just

reading into it.

Am I crazy?

Or am I just

crazy in love?

Or, not love,

but rather…

liking.

That sounds dumb.

I feel like I’m

in middle school again.

Sometimes when I laugh

a bit too hard

at your jokes

I cringe a little,

because I’m sure

everyone can tell.

I don’t even care if

anything happens.

Obviously it would be

great if it did, but part of me

just wants to rip the bandaid off.

I’d rather know if I’m

chasing after nothing

than sit with this any longer,

but I know I’m never

going to say anything.

Maybe you’ll take pity on me

and broach the subject.

I just want you to

kiss my cheek again.

[applejuicepoems]

When the sky is dark

and the house is asleep,

I hug my pillow

and pretend

that my arms are

wrapped around you,

and sometimes

I wonder

if, somewhere out there,

you’re pretending

that your arms are

wrapped around me too.

(11:07 pm Sun Jan 25, 2026)

[applejuicepoems]

I’m 19 years old and I’ve

never kissed anyone.

Not for lack of want

on my end,

but rather

the other way around.

I feel deficient,

and I feel sad.

I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

I’m scared I’ll

end college

with an empty

bedpost.

How embarrassing is it

to tell people

you’re a fucking

drip?

Every time I like

someone I feel

scared to say so.

Maybe that’s my problem;

I just let it fester.

But it’s hard

to tell

if they like me back

or if I’m just being

delusional,

so I often opt to

play it safe.

I don’t know,

maybe this year

I’ll get the courage to

say something.

Or maybe

someone will get the courage

to say something

to me.

[applejuicepoems]

The chill bites at my nose

and my toes

despite the thickness of the

socks I’m wearing,

so I try my best to

wiggle them

as I walk.

The leaves have fallen off

the trees rather quickly,

thriving for

maybe a week

before painting the ground

in a dull brown.

It’s sunny out, so the

cold doesn’t feel too bad,

but I shrug my shoulders

tighter, anyhow.

The grass is still green

by the bus stop,

but I can tell

it’s getting duller;

My color is still

holding on, but I’m worried

it’s starting to fade, too.

(Nov 2025)

[applejuicepoems]

The house is empty.

I feel sad and

Lonely

but I have to go to work,

so I call a car and make

light conversation.

The house is empty

and my phone is silent,

as per usual;

I don’t text

again.

I poke at my cereal

with an apathetic spoon,

flakes turning into mush.

My head hurts

so I bathe with the

lights off, and hope that

tomorrow someone will

say something to me.

[applejuicepoems]

Life sucks.

And I know it gets better

but it's hard

to think that when

everything just

fucking sucks.

I'm on medication

but I don't take it.

It's just so hard to remember

every day,

and at some point you think,

“Why bother? Is this

even doing anything?”

I miss my friends.

I miss my family.

They're not, like,

gone, but I don't feel like I'm

with them anymore.

I feel

separated,

isolated,

and no one has tried to

cross that bridge.

No one has extended a branch

and assured

that I’m encouraged

to take it.

No one has offered me

anything at all.

I’m not going to

do anything

serious,

I just feel the need to say

I’m tired of it.

[applejuicepoems]

A Lesson in Letting Go

You told me to stop, yesterday.

I told you I had, but, I think

somewhere deep in my mind I was

still holding on.

That wasn’t my intention,

so I’m sorry. I just

missed you, I think.

I still miss you.

I want to know you

again, if you’ll have me.

I know it’s been weird, recently;

I’ve felt weird.

It’s not your fault, nor is it

mine, it was just a

bad time

for both of us.

I’ll try my best to refrain

from staring, now. I don’t want to be

weird again. You’re just…

enthralling.

I like looking at your face,

which sounds strange

but there’s something

about you that keeps my

eyes locked on your jaw like a

strong magnet.

I can’t help that you’re pulling me

towards you,

but I guess

you can’t help that either.

I miss you.

And not in a weird way, but rather

like an old memory you faintly feel

in the back of your mind, worn and

torn until the corners are soft and round.

I want to grab it but it keeps

slipping away from me.

Maybe it’s time to let it go,

this time.

(11:03 pm Fri May 17, 2024)

[applejuicepoems]

I think I’m depressed again.

I sat on my bike

at the corner

of the intersection

today and I

wondered what would happen

if I crossed on red.

Not because I wanted to die;

At least,

I don’t think I do.

I just wondered.

Wondered if someone would stop,

Slam on the brakes,

Scream at me out their window

while my heart beats

out of my chest.

I guess

I just wondered

if it would be thrilling.

If I would feel thrilled.

Maybe if I got hit

then people would feel bad.

Maybe they’d care again.

Someone would notice, right?

They have to.

(11:50pm Fri Oct 23, 2025)

[applejuicepoems]

I know you’re a bad person, but

I can’t help but come

back to you when I’m bored.

I miss the thrill I felt when you sent a message,

my heart speeding up at the buzz of

your text tone.

I wish I didn’t know what people

say about you,

how you’ve

changed.

I liked you before,

and despite what I may say

I think I still do.

It’s hard, letting go,

when your name seems to follow

me around.

I want you back, but

I’m not sure you’re still there.

I wish I could say the blush

on your cheeks is akin to mine,

but I know it’s just the

cold.

(10:45 pm Sat Dec 9, 2023)

[applejuicepoems]

7 a.m. and

The sky is an inky black,

Sun still sound asleep.

The brisk morning air

Bites at my cheeks as I pull

My hat down tighter.

Sitting in the car,

I gaze out at the flurry

Of red and orange.

Traffic drags through the

Intersection, oozing around

Neon rubber drums

Like tar creeping down

The street; cars in a hurry

With nowhere to go.

(c. 2022)

[applejuicepoems]

Kiss your eyelids,

fall down.

The ground is cold

and my legs are stinging.

Rust on my knees,

the towel is damp.

It’s quiet in the house

save for my chattering.

I can’t feel the fire,

though it’s licking my back.

My socks are wet

and I feel like changing.

My ears feel funny.

I don’t laugh.

The chime sounds

and my legs keep stinging.

[applejuicepoems]

The big light is on

and it sounds like I’m wheezing,

like there’s something grabbing

my lung

and squeezing

it,

like your grandmother

on your birthday.

It sounds like I’m wheezing

because I am wheezing,

and sobbing,

and crying,

and whimpering,

and overall just being a

fucking

blubbery mess.

I don’t know what else to say

other than I’m tired.

I’m tired and

embarrassed and

sad and

scared that

everything sucks and

everyone hates me and they

just haven’t said so yet.

It’s raining out

and my butt is wet

from the wheels of my bike

kicking shit up at me.

My arms are damp,

my legs are damp,

my shoes are damp,

and my socks

are dripping.

The sun just set

but I’m not ready

for night yet;

I don’t want to cry

in the dark

any longer.

(6:54pm Tues Oct 14, 2025)

[applejuicepoems]

Sometimes I still

grab my chest

when I run up the stairs,

even though

there’s nothing there

anymore.

I kind of miss

lying down in the dark

with my shirt off,

cupping my breast

like it’s a built-in stress ball.

I miss the warmth,

sometimes;

now I shiver like I’m

80 pounds dripping wet

(which I very well might be).

My arms have gotten bigger,

though. I noticed that.

I wouldn’t say I’m buff,

but I feel firmer than before.

In many places.

I’m trying to do

pushups every night,

until failure.

It kind of hurts but

the soreness is nice,

sometimes.

The next morning.

My scars are flatter,

now. I’ve stopped

massaging them as much;

It felt weird.

It still feels weird.

I wonder if I’ll feel

anything there again.

[applejuicepoems]

Melancholy Evening

The air is thick,

my t-shirt hugging

my back with an

uncomfortable stick.

It’s cool enough to crack

the windows

but the neighbors

are out back

and I’d rather not hear their

chattering.

I feel lonesome

here in my bed,

lying on my back as I

watch the thrum

of my heart

push and pull

on my ribs,

a slow start

to a rather melancholy

evening.

(8:56 pm Mon May 27, 2024)

[applejuicepoems]

The kettle is on,

steam screaming,

though the stove is off

so the screaming

seems strange.

My eyes blink;

so does my brain.

I think the receipt got

jammed in the printer.

I lie on the ground like

a baby in a blanket,

or maybe half of a baby

and half of a man.

The steam is screaming and

my eyes are blinking but

the water won’t stay

inside anymore.

[applejuicepoems]

Too far to walk

but close enough to fly.

I close my eyes

but there’s no way

to turn off the sun.

The flowers bloom together

but they’re missing one.

I bloom too, in spite of that.

My hair is shorter,

but I think I’ve grown.

I toe the line between

lonely and alone.

I’m unsure what to do

now. I’m scared of getting older.

My back is aching but

I can’t crack the subject.

(5:52 pm Sun Apr 27, 2025)