honest poem!! (journal jelly)

my name is karli.

i was born on may 10. they say april showers bring may flowers, but in 2001, april showers brought me, and i’m still learning how to bloom. i am 5′ 5.5″, and i think that that “5” is a number that needs more friends. i’m often laughing, and i really need to do it more, and i think paula and tina have seen me more vulnerable then most humans have, especially for being a toyota and chevrolet. i have a sweet tooth bigger than my ego, and hair that is definitely longer than my patience. i’m not very good at the whole “work, then play” logic, and i love to slide down my banister, and sometimes i just really wonder if boys ever wish somebody would open the door for them. i really do have a space in my last name after “van”, and i’ve never even owned a pair of vans, but i do own some elephant pants, and they feel like home. i have cousins who feel like brothers, brothers and sisters who feel like best friends, and best friends who are the best around. i’m scared to move out and i’m scared of the dark but i’m not scared of journal jams (at least for right now.)


because rome is just a place and the moon is just a giant baseball without red stitching, and something deep inside of me feels like i’ve already been there.

because i’m denim and i’m still blooming, and everyone knows that denim makes genes and genes make children, and i want mine to know i wasn’t always just a wilted flower.

because some jokes really aren’t funny, but we still laughed.

because the stars and the ocean will always be here, but we won’t, and maybe it’s us that they need to remember.

because eventually our arms will forget how to trace the sky when we swim, and the sky will forget that it’s even capable of that shade of orange.

a bit revealing

amelia never knows what to say. neither do i.

amelia claimed to be “deep” but was “deepest” when talking about dying or teenage boys hahahah. i think maybe i’m the same way HA

i thought amelia would be a million things i wasn’t. more artistic, less fearful. more complex, less awkward. i guess i forgot that amelia isn’t actually amelia… i guess i forgot that i’m the person behind amelia. and though i thought she would be a million things i wasn’t, the good news, is that i am actually a million things that she is not. for starters, i’m real. i am alive and breathing and i am HERE!!! i talk without thinking, and i think without talking, and i wish my insides could feel yellow all the time. i love walter mitty and sunflowers and anything from the 50s. i want to be my mom when i’m older, and i want to be cinderella when i’m younger, and i think there’s nothing better than having sore abs from laughing too hard. i am a wuss when it comes to scary movies, but can be redeemed by the fact that i know all the lyrics and choreography to “cruisin for a bruisin” (ha) and i love cookie dough, my friends, the sun, and my family with everything in me.

amelia doesn’t. amelia has been a facade of a friend, and that pen name isn’t me. i guess we all are just pen names, walking around everyday with people calling us the name that makes us, us. but just like pen names, real names are just names.

and so, i’m happy you got to know me by this name. amelia is a riot. but now, you can know me by the other “pen name” i go by, the one that everyone i love calls me by.

thanks for listening to amelia.

over and out,

karli van wagoner :)))

things i’m afraid of

  • falling out of love
  • the dark
  • people who bite their string cheese
  • moving out
  • losing contact with friends
  • michael meyers
  • regret
  • terrorist attacks
  • hippos (very underrated on the fear scale, if you ask me)
  • not being able to have kids
  • any scary movie ever
  • falling in love with the wrong person
  • shark attacks
  • not being enough
  • natural disasters
  • that one part in the new jumanji where the girl gets launched onto the ledge and the whole ground is just SWARMING with SNAKES kehtksht yeah that one i’m getting itchy just thinking about it
  • a bad relationship with my parents
    being forgotten
    not living up to my potential
    watching my parents get old and have failing health
    getting hooked on a book series that hasn’t been completed yet
    dark garages
    someone putting something sharp into my luggage right before i go through security at the airport HAH
    people not caring about poverty
    people not caring
    me not caring
    lost faith
    teenage girls; the conductors of the gossip train
    a world like the one in “1984”
    having an opportunity to help someone and then not taking it and feeling bad for the rest of the day– what if they really needed that help like what if that was going to be life changing and i didn’t do it bc i was scared of looking awkward— biiiig fear
    lol clowns
    i’m afraid of laying on my deathbed and feeling like i never really lived and that now it’s too late
    world war z. nuff said.
    writing something that’s not good
    judging wrong
    missed opportunities
    a world that is grey and cement-y and smokey and factory-ey
    read receipts
    a war starting and all my loved guys getting drafted
    the creepy bird guy in horton hears a who
    ending lists