Amira Buckly

Joined February 2021

8 stories

Bio

I hope my words exist beyond these virtual pages

instagram @amira.buckly

Stories (8)

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White Tea
White Tea I was gifted joy and summer In the form of tea bulbs Flowering and artisanal From the tea makers of London Steeped to perfection this gift
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Poets
83 degrees
It was 83 degrees. A light springtime heat. A perfect coffee shop; a perfect patio with perfect seats, ice cold coffee that's sweet. I was spending my days as a ditz. Wondering around without a clue and spending too much like a fool. I could blame the heat and say it makes me overthink.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Confessions
Cottage/core
Cottage/core They raised pretty girls on pretty farms Sewed ruby rhinestones into their dresses Braided lavender into their long blonde hair
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Poets
Pink Hoodie
I still have your pink hoodie. Tucked away in a drawer, in the closet. It's washed, it's clean. It would still fit me if I wore it right now. It won't ever leave unless I let it. It frankly can't unfollow me either. So I still have your hoodie but do you still have my letters? There were 8 of them I recall. Written on yellow legal pad paper. I was 19. Didn't think I was pretty. But I was good at writing so I wrote to you. I put the letters in a Vans shoe box. The shoe box not mine but my brother's. I didn't wear Vans but you did. White ones. The only pair I believe you owned. I put the letters in the box to give them a place where they could rest while we undoubtedly stayed up too late. I wasn't planning on giving them to you. But I did anyway. It was the least I could do because you gave me your pink hoodie.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Confessions
My Period Really Affects Me
My period really affects me. Everything starts out fine, I am functioning. I am working, going to school and hanging out with friends. I am happy. Living each day like it's my last. I go to the gym, I make myself a smoothie. I journal and I read. I make a cup of tea.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Viva
From A Good Home
It starts out in a cul-de-sac. They moved to the suburbs when I was still less than a year old. My footprints are in the backyard. When they were filling the concrete they dipped my feet in so I would have a taste of a land that was mine.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Confessions
Washington
I grew up in the sun. I was a sun baby through and through. My complexion can vouch for me. I radiate rays off my skin. I radiate no sign of a Vitamin D deficiency. Warmth was never labeled a luxury. Rather a commodity of where I lived.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Poets
The Last Day Of Summer
September 21st is the official last day of the summer season. Summer does not end in mid August when students go back to school to study and do their homework. We usually forget summer when we go back to class but summer is still there. Summer is still present for a couple more weeks. Summer probably wishes more people basked in her glory till the very end.
By Amira Buckly4 years ago in Poets