#averiesevers

[averieseverspoetry]

the glass is full.

a poem from my book “temporary forevers”, which is coming out soon. follow my account to be notified when my book is available for order on amazon!

[averieseverspoetry]

respect me and i'll open up like a flower to the sun

Averie Severs

[averieseverspoetry]

i’m a poetry book...

a poem from my book “temporary forevers” coming soon.

[averieseverspoetry]

pesky beings. 

https://www.averieseverspoetry.com

[averieseverspoetry]

I often think of love to be like a swing. I first came to met these thoughts on a hot june day, at the park, in the accompany of the boy that I love. I went straight to the swings as I always did, sat down and proceeded to pump my legs. I swung higher and higher once he started to push me on my back. I couldn't help but laugh and smile with the joy of the moment that I was blessed to feel. I swung higher ... and higher.. laughed harder... and harder. Until all of a sudden he ran fast underneath me as I swung, dangerous swinging my legs as I went. I squealed with excitement in the peak of my happiness. I laughed as I watched him run and climb on the park equipment until he was successfully rested on top of the monkey bars. And as my swing started to slow down but still continued to move, I looked to my right, into the forest, and wondered... If love ended up like that moment of me on the swing. I had started off slow, I had to work for it at first, I really progressed as I grew more comfortable, and I swung harder and stronger once both of us were on the same page. There were moments that felt like they had froze time. There was an overwhelming peak of happiness and bliss, but then after that, it begun to die down. However I was still moving and still swinging, but I felt the reminisce of the happiness that was once in the foreground of my life. I felt empty and plain in its everlasting echo. Love is like a swing, always moving, it has its change of speeds, it has its peak which has its big build up of course, and the swing doesn't stop moving, even when one person leaves the love in the hands of another. A swing doesn't stop until you get off of it and abounded it, walk away. Much like abandoning love. But that probably is just my wrong opinion. But as these thoughts of mine flew through my mind at its lighting speed, I looked to him and I wondered if he realized it too. But I knew he didn't because he beamed when my eyes met with his, and I tried to return the smile, but mine was touched more with sadness then with joy, and all I could do was hope that he didn't realize.

Averie Severs (late night thoughts)

[averieseverspoetry]