Poetry

Things never uttered

a collection By Gianna Panzanella

Honeybee

Just friends,

nothing more.

“JUST FRIENDS!”

I shout and roar.

Just friends,

“Are you sure?”

“Just friends”

I swore.

Maybe, I thought.

“Maybe…” I fought.

Maybe I got…

Then again, maybe not.

Could it be?

That it’s me?

Do you see?

A number don’t dial,

and a geek with style.

A good guy,

but no aisle.

Here and there.

He seemed to care.

Maybe a pair?

Maybe a snare?

Maybe a fling?

Maybe a thing?

Maybe a string?

Maybe a sting?

Ode to College

worn through shoes

counting pennies

textbooks on

every surface

empty coffee cups

Credits roll at 2am

Fragile hearts

Growing minds

A windowsill

full of books

A desk decorated

with picture frames

of people

trapped in

m e m o r i e s

Never Grow Up

I wander through the pages

Another reader among

the numerous faces

curious where this tale will take me

and what I shall discover along the way

searching for a lost little girl

unable to find a home

spinning through the climax

fuzzy in the head

I reach Neverland

as Wendy

Questioning if I’m in fact

Alice instead?

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