i meander at the
depths of rock bottom stumbling
upon newfound grace and
gratitude.

the spiking stone all around
is dull to the eyes but makes
the ever-blue sky
come alive.

when i reach up to
touch it, i know that
i am too small to caress
those faint cotton candy
wisps.

but in my dreams,
i greet the sunrise by
perching on the shoulders
of those who dare to rise
above.

I’ve already done my ten-thousand hours
Under the light of the moon and the sun.
”Self-made” contains its own divine power
In the minds of the Americana.

My bootstraps, I’ve pulled
Until they tore off.
I admit, I’ve been fooled
In this Land of the Lost.

And still yet they shout, at Forefather’s behest:
“Give it your all! And then give me the rest!”

People. Feel. Life. Time. Love. Hate. Day. Cold. Find. Lost. Good. Bad. Wrong. Write. Light. Dark. Heart. Mind. Eyes. Hear. Pain. Hope. Sun. Stars. Better. Afraid. Real. Thought. Help. Cry. Happy. Sad. Fire. Grow.

Perfect.

𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏.

The light
And the dark
Right next to each other.

Human
and God
Right next to each other.

These are my words:
Contradiction after contradiction.

This is who I am:
Everything, nothing, everywhere, nowhere
All.
At.
Once.

“I laugh when I’m sad,”
I said.

And then
I giggled
Softly.

(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?

I lean into you
Just a little bit
To see if I can whisper
Without words,
Say it
Without a single utterance.

I do not think
That you got the message.

I do not blame you.

I can hardly crack the code, myself.

I think I actually
Hate this feeling.
You’re not supposed to
Make me nervous.
You’re not supposed to
Plant seeds in my mind,
Strange seeds that grow strange fruit.
Or, at least you didn’t used to.

I don’t know why I bother at all.

I never did say
That it was a good idea
Did I?