Poems from Anastasia Tunberg
I lie awake thinking
While staring at my ceiling
About so many things
To name a few: my day
Tomorrow
The paint chip on
The wall
How many...
What is it like to be eighteen?
Eighteen is driving down a dark road
Blasting music
At 12 am.
Eighteen is a baby eagle
Just leaving
The...
I’ll remember
You
Through time’s filter
Turning thoughts yellow
And blue, flowers
Wilting, snow
Falling
Seasons passing,
You
Fading
But I...
Anything that is worth it and anything that makes life great is always scary.
Picture this: You’re in the backseat of a boxy looking car...