november is an exercise in trust
we sit inside and through the windows
we watch things die
never quite sure if this time too
they will return

It was so evident
The glimpse into your eye
Your fabled promise
Your, ignoramus
Closing to me, why?
It was so clear
No shadows fear
Your bloom on deep lagoon
Your spiraled scented perfume
Your history's last gloom
It was so right
As dawn breaking over the sound
Sheer carts of wheeling...ground
The love of promise, promised found
It was so evident, so clear
Because I was talking to a witch

I begged you to love me,
I got on my knees the first night.
I begged you to love me,
I drank for you.
I begged you to love me,
I lied for you.
I begged you to love me,
I gave you whatever you wanted when you asked.
I begged you to love me,
I walked large distances to see you.
I begged you to love me,
I changed myself for you.
I begged you to love me,
I broke promises for you.
I begged you to love me,
And you never did.

When I lost her, I built a wall around my heart to let it heal for all the pain it endured.

Many attempted to take down the wall, I didn't permit, for they seem to only offer grandiose promises.

But it all changed when you came, who for the first time, promised to secure my heart, take care of it as how you take care of yours.

And so I took the wall down, brick by brick. But as I removed the last brick to set my heart free, you left, darling you left me.

After we shared our deepest dreams and desires, you left me. After I imparted a part of me, you said you no longer want to stay.

Now I regret taking down this wall.

As my heart feels the coldness of solitude, you only reminded me of why I built the walls ever so high.

You are unsatisfiable unpleased and unhappy
Forever wandering
I’m done trying to be what you want
I’ve tried despite what you say

You may wander wherever you see fit
I won’t chase you any further
My heart has moved on to its next unattainable goal
Making myself happy

Why do we look down and pity
Those who are content in their
Nothingness and suffering

Is it really right and righteous
For us to want them to have more?
It is both impossible and implausible
For us all to have more.

For those who had nothing
Everything is gained
For those who have everything
Fear of losing is more constant

When I was a child
I read that story of a man
Who used to be happy with
His limited share of goods
Then, he found a gold nugget
And the poison spread through
His mind
Till he was viciously suspicious
Of old friends
And remained sleepless
Fearing the loss of
His fortune
How unfortunate that
When he gained the most
He lost it all
Lost his soul

Those of us with so much
Are gluttons with ever
Increasing appetite
We are constantly trying to
Fill the emptiness in our
Soul with a fleeting
Satisfaction and
The joy of a newly acquired
Good

The happiness last for
Shorter and shorter
Periods of time
And then we are left
With the void

When we protest this
We are met with
“You are ungrateful”
“You are so blessed”
Are we really blessed?
When we gained everything
We lost our soul, our happiness,
Our upward gazes facing the sun,
And are now facing the field of ennui,
Or even, the dust of unspeakable shame,
For it seems we also lost the right to suffer.

When we are young,
Likes candies to a toddler
We crave for the sweetness of being
When you grow old
Likes the bitterness of tea
We immerse in the more tattered memories.

In Peter Jackson’s
“They Shall Not Grow Old”
Such horror was described
By the soldiers and veterans
That survived
You’d think they would block out
Their memories entirely
Yet, it ended with such a profound
Declaration
That
If they had a second chance
They would do it all over again

Same with my grandmother,
When you ask her what was
The best times in her life
It will always be the times
She fought the most
And was hurt the most

And my mother’s generation
Was subjected to much hunger
Yet, she is more regretful about
The blandness
Of life and fulfillment now
With so many of her and my
Peers trying to actively
Seriously, and dangerously
Starve themselves
Just to feel pretty

How the rice and fruits
Tasted so preciously
How my grandmother
Had tried to relive her
Less materialistic life
From her childhood in me
How I searched and searched
For those imperfect berries
That always tasted sourer
Than sweet

Such is the Fullness of Being!
Yet,
We are now blessed
With the Emptiness
Of Everything

I often feel so guilty
Being someone with so much
That I could leisurely
Just write poetry
While others try to give more and
More to those with
Nothing

Yet,
I see them much much
Happier than our materialistic
Society
We think are more blessed
We think we are in a better place
But are we?
While they are able to find
Happiness and fulfillment
In hunger and suffering
We are lost among
Our everything.

Do they need more, or
Do we need to learn to
Live with less, much less?

I can’t help fill hungry bodies
But can I give myself to comfort
Souls that are suffering in
The Blandness of being
And abandoned for
Having everything.