Last night, I had my earlobes pierced.
Prior, I had two piercings on my ears.
One on either side from my childhood,
I can only faintly recall the momentary ache,
not what came after
mom took me,
as she had before,
the outcome will be worth it, she’d explained
Bear the pain,
it only lasts a short while.
It won’t be long 'till the stinging subsides,
and all that will be left,
is a place you can adorn
with glittering gold and shimmering silver
and not-so-witty anecdotes and pretty metaphors,
So,
I let myself be swept in her pace again,
Two new wounds to be embellished.
One,
two,
Perhaps, I’ve regressed
but it hurts more than it did before.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 7:33 AM UTC
To call you Love
would be an understatement.
You are a brand new dictionary
brought into the world of an overly confident writer
to humble herself.
You’ve redefined all of the words
I thought I knew the meanings of.
Now— all that I’ve written and will write
cease to be enough.
You are a revolutionary interpreter,
decoding words with the slightest of your touch.
“Trust”, a foreign concept to me,
has now become tangible—
your hands are trust.
Comfort has become your arms.
Warmth, your embrace.
And beauty, supposedly subjective,
has turned apparent, obvious
in every curve and softness of your face,
To call you Love
would be an understatement.
You are more than Love—
You are as you are.
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 1:59 PM UTC
She controls her laughter,
lets it slip from the edge of her mouth,
the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly,
then, she makes a sound,
seamlessly, her fingers graze my thighs,
smoothly, her eyes meet mine,
and in her eyes, I see my reflection—
aflame, abashed, and fiery,
She is the answer I’ve scoured the world for,
and yet, she, herself, remains a mystery,
Ah, I see,
She controls her laughter
as easily as she controls me.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
still, I remember her wrapped in sheets
white, will not, could not mistake it
her hands beckoned me to come forward
she seemed proud of her nightly conquest
she wanted me to look
peel my eyelids open
no, she wanted me to stare
down on what she has ensnared
there in her bed,
laid a man revolting,
he did not seem
like a man, rather a demon disguised,
sheets though white could not hide
still, I recall her
smiling triumphantly
looking down proudly on her catch
of all the prey she has caught
this one will be her downfall
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 1:12 PM UTC
it feels like i am dreaming
even in waking life—
to long for feelings I’ve never felt
to miss a presence I’ve never met
to relive a memory I’ve never had
it feels strange to miss things
that have never happened
to wish to come back to a time
that has never occurred
to once again be the person
I never was
to revisit a place
I’ve never been
Indeed, it feels strange
to want all that
I’ve had only in my dreams.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
only the good die young
the wretched stretch and fold
gray then mold
all the sinners inevitably grow old
if this is truly so,
then afterlife’s keeper must be
cruel and cold
treating life as a commodity only
while it sweats gold
of such saying, I’ve been told
and retold
life for the good runs so quickly
it slips your hold
if all good things must come to an end
then,
I shall live forever.
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 5:53 PM UTC
I’ll keep you in my hands
until you bubble up and fade away
I know that something as
precious you
won’t stay
long enough for me to begin to hate
the clock is ticking,
I know that Time will not wait
for the two of us,
not for me,
not for you,
not for a couple of misfits
of has been’s and too late’s
so I’ll keep you in my arms,
and hold on to you, fiercely,
gently,
I will keep you safe.
I know I come off as a coward,
I admit that I am not brave
still,
I will toughen up,
every hardship I will face.
For you,
whom I love dearly,
no danger is too great.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 9:13 AM UTC
she tells me
she’s in love,
all the time.
all with different guys,
all with different lies,
all the while,
the same shine in her eyes.
she says she’s in love,
and her love is kind—
though it is anything but.
i’ve seen the havoc it leaves behind.
she calls it love,
because she would
lose herself
if he left—
she could care less
for her kids
that would weep,
no,
their tears,
they could keep.
they were mistakes
she shouldn’t have made.
those children aren’t love
but the price she has paid.
my mother tells me she’s in love
one too many times.
i’d love to see her eyes
shine the same way
when she tells me,
she loves me.
the kind of love
a mother
provides.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
LOVE
could be a question of
who
when
how
but never
‘why?’
LOVE
could be a matter of
falling unexpectedly
under the sweetly cool
november sky
LOVE
could sometimes be
a gradual burn
or high paced recklesness
laced with unmasked desperation
and a wordless goodbye
LOVE
could have been
you and I
but LOVE
I never would have thought
be fleeting and discreet-
surprisingly gone
the moment we meet
LOVE
as I now know it to be
is an erratic creature
neither bitter nor sweet
LOVE
is a moment
I would never forget-
his eyes aflame under
the painted sunset
LOVE
was him
and all the things we
left unsaid
LOVE
is now
nothing but a far memory-
that of a star that once burned the brightest but
now is
dead.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 2:01 AM UTC
i watch her from below.
every time she descends,
slides down the pole,
time slows
until it comes to a stop.
she moves her body gracefully,
head held high,
professionally,
she sways her hips
puckers her lips
as intoxicated exhilarated men
shower her with tips
but she glows,
vividly against neon lights,
like a firefly who cannot cry
so it burns bright
till the day it dies,
on the brink of death,
she shines like a
star on its final breath
i watch her from below
she says she’s used to it,
but i know
her better
than all the body glitter—
i watch her from below,
still i cannot say anything
for i am
nothing but a mere spectator
of her show.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 4:55 AM UTC