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Best Poems Written by Bria Harroff

Below are the all-time best Bria Harroff poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Bria Harroff Poem

Eat me

Eat me,
a voice hymns in my ear.
I snap back
I can't eat you.
Please,
the voice begs.
I furrow my eyebrows,
impatient.
"You don't exist."
But you can hear me,
the voice says lightly.
I stay silent.
If you eat me,
you can take all my softness.
You can take all my whimsy,
you can take all my pride,
and all of my serenity.
I know the person you crave.
And I know you're not that person.
I know it keeps you up at night
knowing you aren't
who you wish you were.
Eat me.
Tear me to shreds.
Rip my heart
out of my chest.
To become who you want to be,
you just have to do something
this version of you
would do without flinching.
Be yourself
one last time
to be someone
you can be
for the rest of eternity.
Eat.
Me. 
~ B.J

Details | Bria Harroff Poem

Picture this

Picture this
You're eight years old, in your bedroom,
playing with your favorite stuffed animals.
But not far from your door, the sounds of raised voices echo-voices that do not sound happy.
You shift your focus back to your toys:
Three different teddy bears.
One is the daddy, one is the mommy, and one is the daughter.
You make the bears do the opposite of those raised voices.
You give them calm, inviting tones, words that are loving, nurturing-the words that would heal your inner child.
As your focus sinks deeper into this world you've made, a light smile forms on your face.
Until, 
the sound of your bedroom door creaking open.
You look up to see your mother, her face covered in exhaustion.
She tells you to go to bed, and so you do, gathering all your teddies close.
Because tonight, you want to be part of the wholesome life you've created for them. ~ B.J

Details | Bria Harroff Poem

A hop, skip, and jump away

I treasure the moments
when my eyes catch an animal
hopping through a field of flowers 
or even just a plain field.

In my headspace,
I metaphorically become both
the field and the rabbit.

Jumping through a field of flowers
feels like an intrusive jubilation
a sudden burst of hope,
a quiet sign that all will be well.

But a plain field speaks differently.
It feels dry. Unwell.
No bloom.
Lacking light.

And yet,
the rabbit is always there.

A blameless, alluring creature,
with a purity beyond human
comprehension or relativity.

Though the field may be plain,
and wary,
there is always hope nearby 
maybe just a hop, skip,
and a jump away.

But always there.

Details | Bria Harroff Poem

The willow tree

As you walk down the dirt path, past the tall green trees,
I hope you remember who you are when you reach the willow tree.
You will inevitably get lost, confused in the woods,
struggling to find your way to the willow.

When the light dims, the whoos and coos of owls
and other nameless creatures will hymn in your ear,
distracting you from the overcompensation of your own voice
a light whisper of overthinking,
a gentle pluck of uncertainty.

The journey is long and weary,
more mournful for the woods you walk
than eager for the destination ahead.

With fleet, you fall,
but with glory, you rise
again and again
proving you know what you want.

Unsure of what lies at your destination,
you remain purely hopeful,
your mind already hanging by the tips
of the lanceolate leaves.

The sun fades to moonlight,
and you stand in the quiet presence
of a single thought
a dream that lingered
through the walking and the withering.

Thankful for sight,
eager never to turn your back to the wilderness,
for you have reached
nature.