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...