when i was a little girl,
the word “crush” filled me
with horror and excitement
in equal measure;
back then, it signified
the tightening of the bodice
of that monster who calls herself love
and slowly compressed my chest
blocking my airflow and shaping me
into the girl that would
eventually
be wanted
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC
Mother, my mother,
I no longer recall the sweet sound of your voice
as you rocked me to sleep
in the fold of your arm.
The pitch is long forgotten,
covered by noises of my life now —
the smooth baritone of my love,
the crunch of powder snow under a firm boot,
the lilting melody
of my violin.
Mother, my mother,
I cannot feel the warm embrace
you must have given me
before leaving me to my fate.
It was summer, and yet
I remember no smothering heat
of a clasp to your ***** —
only the sweltering that happened
wrapped in my blanket
in a ditch at the side of the road
under the relentless sun.
Mother, my mother,
I have no more memories
of the homeland where I was born.
You are a distant shadow
hidden in the recesses of my mind,
but you are fading —
fading into the corners,
blending with all my other uncertainties.
I think I used to know,
but I blank when I try to remember
further than the years
I’ve been here in America.
Mother, my mother,
I do not know
even the smallest detail of my former life.
“What have I been writing?”
I am a poet, mother.
I used my imagination.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 3:41 AM UTC
she brushes my cheekbones with her thumbs and the walls fall away to reveal the milky way. she leans in and my eyes track a shooting star behind her, hoping with every fibre of stardust in my veins that my wish will be granted. her lips meet mine and the universe explodes around us in a burst of colours, but when i pull away the only thing i see is the gold-flecked green of her eyes.
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 4:05 PM UTC
that i cry when i don’t want to
and can’t when i do
that people think i’m fine
when that’s so far from the truth
that i smile and laugh
at school during the day
but alone at night
want to cut my troubles away
that i have friends who care
when i either can’t or won’t
that they love me unconditionally
even when i don’t
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 1:58 AM UTC
humans move too fast
to truly appreciate our world
we make hasty decisions
that affect and lead our lives
in the opposite direction we want to go
yet we don’t care enough about it
to do anything to change
our harmful ways
we’re living our lives in the now
with no respect for the past we lived through
or the generations after us
who will live with the realisation
of the regrets we didn’t realise in time
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
smell the smoke
permeating the air;
see the clouds of black and white
decorating the wind.
the fire is within me:
it burns steadily
but it does not destroy anything.
nothing of importance;
nothing that is not already destroyed.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 1:25 AM UTC
as a child, my parents’ comforting
words washed over me like
wave of the ocean, soothing
the wounds left by harsh,
immature names, and i marvelled
at the difference mere words
could make and how they
could change a life
as a teen, my parents’ grating
criticism and unthoughtful words
about the mistakes i make and
the grades i bring home
rub me the wrong way
like dry sand between my toes,
and i try to be the bigger person, i try
to walk away, but with every step
the blisters fester, and soon enough
the wound is too large
to be healed anymore
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
if i could go back to
when i was five
i would tell myself
be careful around sharp objects
(they’re easily misused)
don’t lie about who you are
(it takes such little effort to lose yourself)
be happy with you
(no one could ever take your place)
don’t be so hard on yourself
(you’re not perfect, but no one is)
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 7:58 PM UTC
our relationship was
filled with toxic chemicals
that
s l o w l y but
s u r e l y
crept into
my body
my head
my heart
the way your love
did
not
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 10:49 AM UTC
her lips stretch
to show sharp fangs,
dripping with venom
and
her throat palpitates
as she lets out
a warning hiss;
she is a snake,
poisonous and deadly,
and i have been warned
time and time again
to stay far,
far away,
but as usual,
the allure of danger
calls to me
and i inch
closer and closer,
heart beating
faster and faster
— her body tenses,
prepared to strike —
but as usual,
i ignore everything in my
pursuit.
but,
unlike other snakes
i have encountered,
this one has
the power to
strike back
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC