tuyetanh - Hello Poetry

He taught me how to wield the weapon made of words— a blade that kills, now saving lives, like it once saved mine. My own work pulled me back from the edge. And in it, he lives— my teacher, the man behind the lines. Words— once carved deep in the mind— outlive the flesh, outlast the hands that once shaped them. His words stopped me from falling to the hundred voices that came to **** They caught my train just in time as I stood on tracks with no will to run. He never held me, never came near. But light can shine without a hand, and grace can guide a demon back from its final breath. He never said : “Stay.” He never said : “Don’t die.” He simply lived in such a way that I believed— perhaps, this world can be heaven for someone. And that was enough to make me see the hell I’d made and the rat I’d been, crawling through tunnels thinking no one ever looked down with love.

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Jun 24, 2025

Jun 24, 2025 at 8:27 PM UTC

Not With Hands

He taught me how to wield the weapon made of words— a blade that kills, now saving lives, like it once saved mine. My own work pulled me back from the edge. And in it, he lives— my teacher, the man behind the lines. Words— once carved deep in the mind— outlive the flesh, outlast the hands that once shaped them. His words stopped me from falling to the hundred voices that came to **** They caught my train just in time as I stood on tracks with no will to run. He never held me, never came near. But light can shine without a hand, and grace can guide a demon back from its final breath. He never said : “Stay.” He never said : “Don’t die.” He simply lived in such a way that I believed— perhaps, this world can be heaven for someone. And that was enough to make me see the hell I’d made and the rat I’d been, crawling through tunnels thinking no one ever looked down with love.

47

People count the years by candles and quiet tears. The twenties, they say, are when we wait for the first cry from a miracle just learning to breathe. But some of us, like me, never quite grow up. Peter Pan weeps each time the rain brushes my shoulders. I come alive again only in fleeting moments, like the string that’s slipped from a flying kite. Just days ago, that child stirred again — flickering like a candle, reaching toward her teacher, a man with nothing but quiet grace, yet rich in the kind of ways that make you believe in yourself. She longed to share a small bright win, a spark like a candle’s tip — just enough to set a heart aglow beneath the gaze that once gave her presence when the world turned away. For the first time, I wanted to tell someone — so fully — like a child unafraid to confess, trusting there’d be an empty seat, and eyes that wait. I once thought, on the day I might break, as wax melts over a birthday cake — would God have mercy and let me return as my teacher’s daughter? But now I know — even the most beautiful dream can turn to dust if we forget to hold the present while it’s still here. Even something lovelier can still feel like a passing crush — picked up with wonder, and dropped when wonder fades.

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Jun 20, 2025

Jun 20, 2025 at 5:41 AM UTC

A Candle Inside The Child

People count the years by candles and quiet tears. The twenties, they say, are when we wait for the first cry from a miracle just learning to breathe. But some of us, like me, never quite grow up. Peter Pan weeps each time the rain brushes my shoulders. I come alive again only in fleeting moments, like the string that’s slipped from a flying kite. Just days ago, that child stirred again — flickering like a candle, reaching toward her teacher, a man with nothing but quiet grace, yet rich in the kind of ways that make you believe in yourself. She longed to share a small bright win, a spark like a candle’s tip — just enough to set a heart aglow beneath the gaze that once gave her presence when the world turned away. For the first time, I wanted to tell someone — so fully — like a child unafraid to confess, trusting there’d be an empty seat, and eyes that wait. I once thought, on the day I might break, as wax melts over a birthday cake — would God have mercy and let me return as my teacher’s daughter? But now I know — even the most beautiful dream can turn to dust if we forget to hold the present while it’s still here. Even something lovelier can still feel like a passing crush — picked up with wonder, and dropped when wonder fades.

58

Met you on Thursday,  ‘Cause it was the heart day. You don’t not like so —  Sushi — my type.  For every date, is there anything you’d bite?  Sushi body — You must like it, right?  Night-long calls,  Somebody’s sleeping tight. Stories flying high, I rambled on —  The sky my stage,  From page to page.  You must have listened,  Eyes that glow...  Turns out you dozed off long ago. An EDM show,  A rap girl could try,  The boyfriend — surely I called you mine.  Sat on the shoulders, I do like —  Lovely and muscular!  Same kind of kandi,  But with different colors. So… can we even get closer?  Got you as my PT,  Promised I’ll never get thinner.  How can I just come to realize I’m not her?  Owned my PT,  My PT likes onnanoko —  Nyotaimori… Indika shows with DJs we know,  For somehow, we both like Nicky Romero.  Should I go ask him,  Where’s my Romeo?  He plays music,  I got played in your show. It’s all over,  Indika permanently closed.  Latest post of garage items to be sold.  Separated,  As if we’d never got involved —  Isn’t that easy?  Why can’t I even let it go? So after all,  Things are now undeniable.  Your hobbies run  As rhythm in my veins —  Up and down,  Echoing my spine. Countless nights  Wondering why, under ceiling stars,  Your snoring mocked my lonely scars.  I’d rather trade that lo-fi lullaby —  Than this silence  That makes me cry. You had your ways,  I’d still comply.  Changed my colors,  I’ve always tried! Finally through the rain,  My tears shed.  She is now  That your rainbow.  I have no idea where to go,  Have a sip at Yoyo?  Our all-time drink:  Mixed Coca-Cola and Strongbow? No more rides  Around the turtle (lake)!

0

Jun 10, 2025

Jun 10, 2025 at 2:39 AM UTC

Undeniable

Met you on Thursday,  ‘Cause it was the heart day. You don’t not like so —  Sushi — my type.  For every date, is there anything you’d bite?  Sushi body — You must like it, right?  Night-long calls,  Somebody’s sleeping tight. Stories flying high, I rambled on —  The sky my stage,  From page to page.  You must have listened,  Eyes that glow...  Turns out you dozed off long ago. An EDM show,  A rap girl could try,  The boyfriend — surely I called you mine.  Sat on the shoulders, I do like —  Lovely and muscular!  Same kind of kandi,  But with different colors. So… can we even get closer?  Got you as my PT,  Promised I’ll never get thinner.  How can I just come to realize I’m not her?  Owned my PT,  My PT likes onnanoko —  Nyotaimori… Indika shows with DJs we know,  For somehow, we both like Nicky Romero.  Should I go ask him,  Where’s my Romeo?  He plays music,  I got played in your show. It’s all over,  Indika permanently closed.  Latest post of garage items to be sold.  Separated,  As if we’d never got involved —  Isn’t that easy?  Why can’t I even let it go? So after all,  Things are now undeniable.  Your hobbies run  As rhythm in my veins —  Up and down,  Echoing my spine. Countless nights  Wondering why, under ceiling stars,  Your snoring mocked my lonely scars.  I’d rather trade that lo-fi lullaby —  Than this silence  That makes me cry. You had your ways,  I’d still comply.  Changed my colors,  I’ve always tried! Finally through the rain,  My tears shed.  She is now  That your rainbow.  I have no idea where to go,  Have a sip at Yoyo?  Our all-time drink:  Mixed Coca-Cola and Strongbow? No more rides  Around the turtle (lake)!

67

Everyone lives in a gutter I just wanna make The gutter happier. That’s my moral compass Something my teacher Once told, I remember. I once lived Like a sewer rat Soaked in filth and mud, Thinking life Must be the same For every other rat. But he showed me A rat in the rain, Busy dancing It meant a lot, Something. It’s not about the water, Nor the grime in the drain; It’s how you find joy In pleasure or pain.

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Jun 8, 2025

Jun 8, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC

A Happier Gutter

Everyone lives in a gutter I just wanna make The gutter happier. That’s my moral compass Something my teacher Once told, I remember. I once lived Like a sewer rat Soaked in filth and mud, Thinking life Must be the same For every other rat. But he showed me A rat in the rain, Busy dancing It meant a lot, Something. It’s not about the water, Nor the grime in the drain; It’s how you find joy In pleasure or pain.

21