a cherry blossom smile
is a pink blooming flower
its so delicate and petite
it has seen the most beautiful days
and the darkest of times
but it still smiles
and continues to make others smile
still today,
it is the rarest and most beautiful of all

Some sounds do not belong to instruments.
They live just after.
Or just before.

The echo the piano makes when no one is touching it.
The hum of a string not struck
 but shaken by something nearby.

The part of a voice
 when the singer forgets they’re being heard.

Sometimes the most important sound
  is the one that wasn’t played
    but was felt
      in the hand that almost moved.

There is a kind of music
  that only exists
    inside the listener.

I’ve heard more truth
 in the seconds between chords
 than in the chords themselves.

Because those seconds
    aren’t performed
    they leak.

And maybe that’s where the music
  stops pretending
  and becomes real.

Poetry has given me the voice

to say it to the world —

"I am a living being too,

treat me well."

Dark clouds come and go,
but the sun always stays.

Yet every dark cloud manages
to leave behind a scar–

one that even the blazing sun
can neither erase nor hide.