Our bodies share the same age,
Not separated by much months, yet
I believe I have yet to find the gold
That runs through your veins,
Or the bright youth that lines your soul.
Can you help me find the rose-tinted glasses
You see the world through?
Will you tell me how I can radiate with the sun's blessings
As you do?
We have been surviving the same bullets,
But by ourselves.
Yet, somehow your wounds seem to heal faster.
I watch you get up and go while I still tend to my own.
Oftentimes I have to reach far to keep up with you.
Despite the unkindness of circumstance and proximity,
Somehow I feel that I have held your hand through it all.
And sometimes, in the small moments of reality
That peek through the stage lights and camera flashes,
I feel you hold back.
And in that moment, we are just seventeen year olds again.
Just that, nothing more.
Can I be eighteen with you too?
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC
I have found out that
Home isn't always a where,
It is a who: you.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC
You are the closest I've ever come to seeing space up close.
With the multitude of galaxies in your eyes,
And the way light bounces off your honey-hued skin,
I'm convinced you were raised amongst the stars.
Did you not spend your younger days hitching rides on passing comets,
And catching asteroids like fireflies in the palms of your hands?
Are you sure you didn't take a bite out of the sun
Leaving its embers stuck between your teeth?
I think the universe is smiling right now,
Knowing that a piece of it is safe and living here; glowing ever so brightly.
And if my chest is an open window,
I know that it's you pouring through it.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
they say the moon hasn't been this close to us since 1948.
after hundreds of cycles and phases, maybe it waited for just the right moment
just so you and i could share this one.
it's gravity pulls me closer, like the tides that separate us both.
but tonight, it's sliver fingers interlock mine with yours
and i feel the warmth in my palms even as the cold whips around me.
i feel like i could just pluck it right out of the velvet night
and hold it in my hands for a moment before i give it you
in all its full and glowing glory that reminds me so much of you.
i'm glad that we live under the same sky.
i wonder if you are looking at it the same time i am.
because for once, you don't seem so far away anymore.
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
i.
your hands are too rough
for a boy with a heart
as soft as yours.
ii.
let your soul and spirit flow
from your eyes and from your lips
it's okay if someone notices.
iii.
you can learn what it feels like to fall
gentle and warm in the hands
of someone else. mine are always open.
iv.
you don't have to be scared of breaking open;
i will hold you so tight that all your broken pieces
will come back together again.
v.
the person you were before this
is still living in you, hiding behind your eyelids.
i'm sure he likes the view.
vi.
you are a hurricane.
you are the universe in full force.
you are loved and loved and loved.
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
For a moment,
We were both here.
Some part of me knew when you arrived.
The sun burned a little hotter, the moon lingered a little closer;
Flowers seemed to point in your direction.
I could feel the wind change its course whenever you laughed.
But while you swam through clouds and crowds
I could only watch from afar as I had to push past the forces
That pulled every part of me to where you were.
But you were here. And that was enough for me.
How funny that the streets I can trace like veins in my body,
Were so new to you, strangers to your eyes.
But for that single, fleeting moment,
You walked through them, not minding the newness of scenery,
Leaving your trace with every sneakered footstep.
I hope the city held you like I would.
My language must have tasted different on your tongue.
The words were as foreign in your eyes as yours were in mine.
For the first time, I could see your fingertips piercing through the barrier,
And God knows how close I was to connecting mine with yours.
Our stories were finally synced,
Finally on the same page.
I didn't mind that I was one word in your book
And you were a whole chapter in mine,
I was just fine with being any part of your story;
Even just for a moment, even if I wouldn't be a part of it again.
Now you are there.
And I am still here.
But I look for you in every thing I see,
Wondering if you saw the same.
And then, you are here again.
But just for a moment.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
The days were longer
The sun lingered
Hotter, closer, brighter,
As if it were burning
With passion for you
With the want to hold you
Maybe that's why it kissed you
Just a little bit more
Than the others
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:56 PM UTC
I don’t think I know what home feels like yet
Maybe home is a lone, weathered bench
Tucked beneath a canopy of trees in Central Park
It might be in the enticing neon of Tokyo
Its electric fingers beckoning me to get lost in them
I see it in my unruly bedroom
In the familiar scent interlaced in the fabric of my sheets
But how would I know, right?
Maybe home is burying my head in the crook of your arm
Letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull me to sleep
It might be when you laugh at my jokes
Your nose crinkling up, your head thrown back
I see it in the way the very earth holds its breath
Just to listen to you speak
But how would I know, right?
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
There is comfort
That sits at the end of the sunlit hallway
A familiar soul resting
Against the trademark white and blue
I find warmth in your jacket-clad grasp
And in your groggy, yet reassuring smile
Our voices contain remnants of 2 in the morning
But your eyes still twinkle beneath your heavy eyelids
There is sweetness
In the words that roll off your tongue
And in your unexpected embraces
That melt my heart into honey
I find shelter in the familiar roars of laughter
That ricochet and bounce against the walls
The same ones that have held me
Since my younger and simpler days
There is light
That radiates from your face
A brilliance impossible to ignore, a candle igniting another
And I long to bathe in that heat day after day
I find sorrow in knowing
That it won’t be yours that greets me
In that sunlit hallway anymore
Not for a while, not for a long time
There is hurt
In the way you say “see you soon”
But there is also love in your goodbyes
For I know a warm “hello” is sure to follow
I find peace because I am sure
That there will always be
Other sunlit hallways for us to walk into
But this time I will be holding your hand
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
We were the kings and queens
Standing tall and proud with our scraped knees and missing teeth
Wielding illustration board swords and construction paper crowns
As we ruled our backyard kingdoms with justice and innocence
We were the greatest heroes that ever lived
We donned our stark-white towel capes and sprinkled baby powder pixie dust on our backs
Our feet never left the pavement
But we soared higher than the cotton candy clouds
We were astronauts orbiting the cold darkness of space
Protected only by our tin foil and cardboard helmets
We spent hours counting every twinkling star and hitching rides on each passing comet
Marveling at the earth with eyes as bright as the nebulae that pierced through the velvet blackness
We were builders, inventors, creators
We built up and tore down skyscrapers with the touch of a hand
We formed galaxies that dripped from our tongues like honey
The earth itself moved along with our bodies that never seemed to tire
But we were only ever seen as children
They told us to stop horsing around, to stop our nonsense
But this “nonsense” was the only thing
That had ever made sense to us
“Grow up.” Those words stung like a slap to the face
“Grow up.” They left sticky teardrop trails on our cheeks
“Grow up.” Repeating over and over again until they made our ears bleed
“Grow up.” Until we had no choice
So we took off our crowns and left them to rust
Crumpled and abandoned at the bottom of our backpacks
Collecting pencil shavings and pad paper debris
Crushed by the weight of our responsibilities
We removed our capes and robes
Dropped our swords and shields
Leaving them to rot in the very closet
Where we sought courage to fight the monsters that we used to be scared of
We traded our tools and scepters
For textbook rifles and good-grade grenades
And our feeble little bodies could barely take the load
We were drafted in a war that we were too young to fight
We tucked away every trace of our childhood
In the pockets of our ripped jeans and underneath our briefcases
We hid them from prying eyes and jeering tongues
Hoping that the blossoms sprouting from our minds wouldn’t be seen through our hats
We lost touch with our past
Like an childhood friend who moved away
And although you never saw him again
You still remembered his name
Why are we so afraid to let our minds run free?
Do we fear the goldfish bowl of judgement so much
That we do our best to make it seem like we have nothing from our past left to show
And we only end up ripping up our imagination to destroy the evidence of its existence
But child, I hope you find bits and pieces of it
Whether they are wedged in between the pages of your favorite book
Or folded neatly in an old shoe box
Or perhaps sitting in your mother’s attic, gathering dust
Maybe you’ll find it in a series of knocks on your door
And I hope you let it in
And listen carefully while it speaks
Let it tell you stories of when you were royalty, a hero, an astronaut, a builder
And when it hands you a crown
A cape, a helmet, a sword
Please don’t be ashamed to use them
Don’t be afraid to remember
But if you tell it that you don’t need those things anymore
And that you no longer need them to dream, that’s okay too
Because growing up never meant letting go of your imagination
It only meant turning it into your reality
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC