And eventually, you will meet someone,
out of the hundreds of people you’ve met in your life.
She’s ordinary and does the same things like everyone.
She wakes up in the morning, fix herself a cup of coffee,
does household chores, work her way out through the day,
drinks wine, read thick novels, and sleeps soundly at night.
But she will turn your world upside down.

This seemingly ordinary human being who is like
any other human being suddenly starts to become
the only human being in your life.
And you start to ask questions.

Like, why her? Why now?
Why does your heart beats faster when
she’s around and slows down when she’s not?
Why do you dream of her? Why do you see a future with her?
Why is your mind filled with the image of her face,
her warm smile, the curves of her body,
the roundness of her *******, the thickness of her thighs?

Why is her laugh the most beautiful music you’ve ever heard?
Why do you feel wonderful and glad when she says your name?

Suddenly, everything just seems to lighten up.
You are entering uncharted territories and
it feels so good to get lost in some place
that isn’t just built for sleeping and dreaming,
isn’t just four-walled and filled with furniture.

Home, more than buildings, houses,
and four-walled rooms, can be a pair of arms
around your body, like a second skin on you,
a birthmark you can never get rid of,
a memory you will never forget.

I reached out and held your hand.
"Mom...I'm pregnant"
I felt your grip loosen,
and I was afraid to meet your eyes,
wide with shock, with tears glistened.

You stood across from me,
arms folded, ready for my big news.
"Dad...I'm pregnant"
Your gaze fell and you wouldn't speak.
We both knew it was too soon.

"Congratulations, Miss McNabb.
You're pregnant!"
I know it's true and yet it seems so unreal.
Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn.
I don't know how to feel.
Excited of course,
the obvious choice.
But also scared, and maybe paranoid.
My little Oliver Sparrow never made it
out of the womb-
taken too soon.
I tried to forget the pain
but pain is much too real to be waived.

There is a baby inside of me.
I have seen it on the black and white screen.
I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled,
when I saw its little hiccups and kicks,
the way it seemed to dance inside.
I believe in my baby, I can't resist.
My baby is strong, that much I know,
just from seeing its dance-
almost like a restlessness to be free.
My baby is loved-
more loved than I could ever hope to be,
and yet I wish I had more, more, more love to give.

My baby is here, and real,
and so is my desire to be the best mommy.

Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn

Here I am,
not quite at home here,
but comfortable in this pale skin.

I am here,
to tell you that things can feel better
and that when they say
'Look for the Silver Lining'
they don't mean it'll all be okay,
but that enough will be okay
some mornings you won't think twice
about waking up.
You just will.

Because tomorrow I am going to a wedding,
tomorrow I pick up a puppy named after a Russian Tsaritsa,
tomorrow is tomorrow is tomorrow.

It can be dark on this side of the moon,
but there come crescents
and there come full circles of light
and there comes morning once again.

It's worth it, no matter what you tell yourself.
It really is.

i wear your sweaters when you're asleep & i wear them when your not home to remind me of who i am;
your girlfriend, your fantasy, the love of your life;
but suddenly my mind wonders who am i without you?
i've lost myself inside of you, i've buried myself deep beneath your ribcages & made home inside your chest;
but then i remember i never existed to begin with because i've always been a shapeshifter.
twisting & morphing into what everyone else wants me to be, forgetting that i have a body, a mind & a soul all of my own;
feeling guilty for taking a second to breathe through the bars on this jail cell window.
i've been laying on the floor like a carpet,
letting everyone walk on me & pretending that it's completely acceptable;
& i've always hosted the parties to give myself a sense of control when in reality all i'm doing is serving people.
but please, my love, don't misunderstand me;
my love for you is always here inside of me even if it's gone into hiding;
this illness clouding my brain has been growing from a pinprick into a wrecking ball;
turning everything into black & white as if i'm living on a zebras skin.
you always loved the yin & yang symbol, well that's how my mind self-destructs;
for anyone who doesn't know, the yin & yang symbolizes the good & the bad, with a little good in the bad & a little bad in the good;
a small light in the dark & a hint of shadow in the light;
except the way my mind works, there is no flicker of a flame in the darkness & darkness does not exist in the light;
at least that's how my mind perceives things...
when i'm treated with love & adoration, my heart suddenly beats & you are an angelic being i am undeserving of;
but then again i never deserved any form of happiness, according to my thoughts;
when i am treated with abuse & neglect (or what my brain tells me is abuse & neglect), i shut down my emotions & once again become a ghost to my own body;
but then again this hollow numbness is the home i grew up in...
i don't remember much of my childhood & sometimes i wonder if that's a good thing;
was it to protect myself from the horrors that i'm not sure even existed,
or was it really a wonderful childhood that i purposefully forgot so i could give all the blame to my family?
i don't remember much of my childhood but i know i forgot it to relieve myself of some of this pressure;
some of this pressure that pushes down on me every minute of every day;
how do you expect me to feel when every feeling i ever expressed was shoved back down my throat because it was too inconvenient for someone else;
how do you expect me to speak when i was trained to bite my tongue because i was always too intelligent for anyone else's comfort;
how do you expect me to live when all i've lived for was to satisfy the needs of those around me so i could feel worthy of the air in my lungs;
& when i say "you", i don't mean you, just you as one sole being, i mean everyone;
everyone i've ever met has expected something of me;
whether it be my body, my mind, my skills or my words,
my heart, my thoughts, my possessions or me;
& you my love, you are everything to me despite my contradictive actions,
because you're the only one who has ever taken a moment to look at me dead in the eyes & ask me with pure love & selflessness
well what do*  you  want...?
*...i wear your sweaters when you're asleep & i wear them when you're not home to remind me that you love me as much as i love you.
& you may be the only person that could truly know who i am.

Vapid people
dribbling vapid shxt.
A society of ****-eyed,
drunken infants
debating politics memorised
from Fox News.

We, the awakened,
plastering social media
with doll-faced mannequins
captioned with some Eastern Philosophy
we read in Cosmo,
enhanced with a filter
titled "Who The **** Is Lao Tzu?"
Comments read: goals af.
(Insert emoji here)

And praise the Indigo Children!
It's a true gift indeed
to talk about activism
until blue in the face.
My, what a spiritual hue, are you.
Are you?

A generation of craft makers,
weaving their way
through the alcoholic labyrinth,
drawing the Hungover Man
from a Rider Waite tarot deck,
for another episode of Dull and Duller
next weekend.

Cover me in chamomile kisses
And lukewarm lullabies
I'll dance in the haze of your eyes