“An old love will come back to you,”
said my fortune on the table,
but does my fortune cookie know
that I’m emotionally unstable?

“Learn Chinese- Expensive.”
that’s the word my cookie taught
but does my fortune cookie know
I had to sell all I had bought?

“Lucky number 41”
the first number that was listed
the exact amount left in my wallet
now isn’t that twisted?

“Lucky number 5”
the number of deaths I faced,
does my fortune cookie know
they’ll never be erased?

“Lucky number 12”
the 12th glass I am drinking,
does my fortune cookie know
the drunk thoughts I am thinking?

“An old love will come back to you,”
that’s what my fortune said,
but does my fortune cookie know
my only love is dead?

Poetry is like gusts of fresh air
Harbinger of the soul’s catharsis
Flowing emotions through the pen
Concealed pain written across the pages
Healing the pain which was long buried

You have long ago dived into my ocean
And all the treasures you discover, you kindly give it to me.
But did I ever ask you, honey, can you breathe?

"It's not the treasure.
It's the dive.
I love your depth.
Hauntingly beautiful."

The way you cut through my surface
And make your way deep down endlessly,
Has stirred those parts of me
which have long ago fell asleep.

Expressive Silence.

And yes, your implosive silence
Yes, your beautiful grief,
They drug my mind so high
Until I come to you for the heal.