Life is full of them. When you're growing up, they're so frequent -
you're always looking forward to a new one.
As you grow older, that excitement gives way to regret and sometimes fear.
Things you haven't yet done or experienced;
things you have yet to fail at - things you may never get the chance to enjoy.
I've had a few firsts this past year, as I decided to finally let go of that fear I was clinging to for so long.
And it is such a relief -
to find that you're not made of porcelain,
emotionally or physically;
that your life isn't on the verge of going up in flames,
or crumbling to bits at the slightest provocation.
You are stronger and so is the fabric of the life you have woven -
it can withstand a few tremors, harsh waves, missteps, falls, crashes, burns.

If you don't have the scars to prove it, did it really happen?
You've got to let life mark you, not all scars are bad,
some make killer tattoos..

you’re in my dreams
you’re in my head
i got tangled in your arms
i got tangled in your heart
i can’t escape you
i can’t get away
now i’m trying
i’ll run away from you
don’t lure me back
let me walk away
because no matter what we do
i can’t have you

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

you say she's just a friend
but "just a friend" wouldn't visit you at work on your first day.
"just a friend" doesn't lay in your lap
while you play with her hair.
"just a friend" doesn't flirt with you.
"just a friend" wouldn't make me want to see myself bleed.
"just a friend" would be just a friend.

With a pen in her hand
She is ready to put her heart on the page
But no words come
For they had been stolen
Before she could even write

Dear HP,

This is not a poem
But a question
The answer to which
I do hope you have

Why does my lover claim to love me
But still looks for every opportunity
To let me go?

Is it that she loves me so much
But doesn't think she's worthy of me

Or she doesn't love me enough
To think I'm worthy of her?