Hollie Getter Poems

'Religion is for the feeble minded' I find myself bound to the feeble. Matthew 16: 26 For what has a man who gains the world, and looses his soul?

Gods calling to me as my head hits the pillow, frightened am i so i sleep.
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The voice i wake with is the same with which i recall the days past, the same i lecture with, listen too, hear truths behind, and contemplate trust within. My voice is exactly as it should be. I’ve been sick the past month with pnemonia and though i have found myself a hermit, and my throat to sore, my chest too hollow and shakey to speak, i have been talking non-stop. What am i saying? The same things i always say. Desires make themselves present, complications within my relationships turn cartwheels in my head and while i ponder initiative action, i feel summer around the bend, feel time in the cracks of my too dry hands-coming and going and staying and sitting and moving and stopping and never ever starting... Life is....funny. I in my 23 years of wisdom can suddenly sit back and recognize my mother, my father, my sisters, the words instilled, the words that took seasonal affect and the ones that will stay with me a lifetime. Someone called me stupid once. Someone called me ugly once. Someone called me young, beautiful, funny, charming, classy, crazy, strong-willed, liar, hypocrite, lunatic, artistic, quiet, loud, fast, gentle, smart, aggressive, dramatic... So much to reflect on. So much telling me who i have been, charting the territories between then and now and i am so greatful for all i have been, for all i am. I have come into my own in a way that enables me to see others for who they are. The wagon is shaky and i am bound to fall off but the knowledge imparted while riding will and has thus far, forever taken it’s toll.

These are the young days. Slow days. Everybody needs to know days. These are the years building up to the day we die, and the only thing we’ll know is the time. I want to sit by the sea feel the wind and be free from the burdens of a day when i cared. Life consults with me, turning me in to who i’ll be, teaching me nothing is worth anything but being here.
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i visit the borders...but cant escape your cold

keep it simple. what wakes from exhaustion is the most blinding of darknesses...
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Board up my soul

The representation of my generation
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