I will never understand you.
And that's our great tragedy.

Listless bones
And weary muscles
Flop on a floor-bound mattress.
Crooning tunes
And lilting bassoons
Flit on a fan-turned breeze.
Despite the heat
I find respite
In this brief pause
From reality.

She says we're magic.
And my inclination is to doubt
Because to me magic is the impossible.

But every time she speaks
She's magic.
And it's been like that since we shared a womb.

We are twins that shouldn't have been;
No twins run in either side of our bloodlines.
An impossible pair, you could say.

She calls us magic.

She and I have faced death and lived.
Hindsight still brings no clarity
To understanding why we didn't die.
An impossible life, you could say.

She calls us magic.

And I watch how she moves through her life as a teacher
Touching and changing and redirecting
The fatal fate others are destined for
Making it into a life worthy of them
For she says they're magic too.

And knowing what she's seen and lived,
What she does seems impossible to me.

But she does it. She lives it. She is it.
And I wonder how she couldn't be
When that's the only sensible thing:
She is magic.

Then she pulls up a mirror
And faces me.

Our lives parted paths long ago yet remain parallel.
And she makes me see that all I've done
To live and breathe and thrive and succeed
Is in others' eyes, impossible.

And she boldly declares yet again,
Yo, we are ******' magic!

This time I believe.

It's almost like you don't exist
Except for in my imagination.
And I'm more than a little curious
To know if that is why
Our friendship
Endures.
Of course, the painted portraits
In all our conversations
Detailing your myriads of adventures
Goes far to convince
Even the most skeptical
Of your factual existence,
And yet, you're like that imaginary friend
We all have at some point dreamed up--
The friend who just knows
Who we are and where we stand;
The friend with whom laughter
Is infectious and enduring;
The friend whose intangible presence
Gives far more comfort than a tangible touch;
The friend for whom every moment
Is about quality and not quantity;
The friend we always imagined we would have
But struggled to find in the real world.
And yet, there you stand,
Granted it's a thousand miles away.
But perhaps that distance is why
This friendship solidified as quickly as it did
And why it feels like it will endure all tests of time.
Or perhaps it's the simpler fact
That you and I
Are two sides to the same coin
In personality, ethics, morals, and justice,
And that you weren't made up by me
In my overly fanciful imagination;
For there is far more power and stability in reality
Than in one's conjured visualization.

The first time you saw
The white streaks of healed tissue
That ran across my arm, you said,
"I'm surprised but proud of you."

You were proud that I wore them
Like a badge of honor not shame,
That I didn't hide them like others
Did with their own.

Later, we talked about them again
And you revealed how you thought
I seemed to be used to them now
And I didn't notice them anymore.

Want to know what I notice?

I notice how strangers hesitate
When they see me or meet me.

I notice how mothers distract
Their kids when I walk past.

I notice the whispers then silence
When I move my arms.

I notice judgement from people
Who don't know the first thing about me.

I notice the looks of sadness or pity
But never acceptance.

I notice how my heart constricts
Because they don't know my story.

I notice how I hate myself more
For the fact that I am so messed up.

I notice the fact that I'm always aware
And completely unused to them.

The death of a loved one:
You don't get over, just used to.

This--these scars on the body and soul:
You don't get used to, just live with.

Leaves falling slowly
The cold wind bites me gently
My heart longs for heat.

Oh child, be not dumb!
Hear what I have to speak:
Don't look back ever.

There is more than this
I promise and guarantee
Just keep pressing on.

To be warm, I am
To be safe, I know I am
Can't you see I am?

Her eyes refused to close.
Intent on the world around her.
His eyes refused to open.
Content with the peace sleep afforded.

His nose a button just like his mama's.
Her ear lobes detached just like her papa's.

My love poured through every pore
As my arms cradled these two new to life.
Heart-stopping gratitude and mirth
Overflowing at knowing one day
Their lips would part to utter "Auntie"
To me.

My family--
Not by blood
But by love.

If you knew how your actions
Are like dagger blades ******
Into the deepest parts of my soul,
Would it matter to you
To pull them out and tend the wounds
They leave behind?

Or would you turn
*Yet another blind eye?

She held my hand
As I put the flowers on your grave.
And I didn't understand
How the wind kept whispering your name.

I stood up on that hill
Thinking of all the things we'd done.
Down my spine ran a chill,
Trying to face what I'd become.

No one ever said it'd be like a hurricane
Rushing through my veins.
I try to hold the tears back,
But they fall like rain
Washing my sins away.

*Washing our sins away.

I would ask
For space,
For distance,
For some degree of separation,
For a pause,
For an intermission,
For a break,
Before I lose myself
Completely
In this
Swirling,
Twirling,
Whirling
Billow of emotional haze.

*Can you give me that, please?

I used to say
That it didn't really strike me
As unusual or odd in any way
When people would look at me askance
Without a second thought or glance
As too what I was doing with you
Walking around with the sky blue
And the weather hot as a desert
And us bundled like in a blizzard,
But the truth I've always kept hidden
Was that I know what was flippant
For you was actually a great trial to me.

I used to say
That the tremors and shakes
My hand gets when I talk to strangers
On the bus, train, taxi, or airplane
Were just due to the excess caffeine
I had consumed to keep me alert and breathing,
But the fact of the matter I never shared
Was that I was more than a little scared
Of being near, interacting with, relating to
People.

I used to say
I was okay...

I think you get my point
Without me having to spell it out,
Or do I have use the words
I'm not accustomed to?
The words I've refused to say
For going on two decades
Because I determined that nobody cared
Enough to listen to my voice
Unless I was pretending to be great
Like everyone else,
But that's just a masquerade--
One that I'm tired of dancing in now.

I used to say
I was okay.
But the truth is I'm not.
And I need some help.

It's taken me awhile
To catch my breath today.
But when i eventually did,
I realized it was because
My brain was not thinking of you.
All of your problems,
All of your wounds,
All of your insecurities,
All of your doubts,
Were not at the forefront
Of my waking consciousness.
I'm not saying I don't care about you,
Because I verily do.
But honestly, it was good to take a break
And forget it all,
Even if it was only for a few breaths.

I* will take no prisoners.
I will leave none alive.
I will **** every soul that resists
And every one that doesn't.
I will keep my blade wet with blood
And my face dry of tears.
Sorrow and anguish and pain are gone,
For there are no emotions were Depression reigns.
There is only silence.

Black and white dreams
Streaked with stripes of red.
Sepia-toned visages of the dead.
And the symphony plays the most haunting melody:
Silence.

You said
"You should let me love you,"
But you have no idea
Of what loving me entails.

Loving me
*Means accepting the silence.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
I tried every trick in the book
To make the best first impression.
And I'd refine those tricks
By asking those who became my friends
What their first impressions were of me,
And the favorable things were promoted,
And the non-favorable things promptly culled.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
All the hours I spent riding the MUNI
To and from school, crossing paths with strangers,
I'd wonder if they wondered about my story,
What kind of person I am,
What kind of history I have,
What kind of morals I live.

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
So consumed with making them think
The best of me, my fingers bleed
From receiving all the chewed pent up anxiety
Of "Am I good enough to be their friend?"
Of "Did I just say the wrong thing?"
Of "Did I make the right choice?"
Of "Are they going to hate me now?"
Of "I bet they'll choose to leave me now."
Of "This is all I have; this is all I can be."
Of "Guess it's just me."

I used to wonder all the time
Until I realized people don't really think of me.

Not the "Don't think of me" in a negative way,
But the "Don't think of me" in the exact same way
That I never think about them.

My thinking about them was always in relation to me.
Never "What was my first impression of them?"
Never "What's their story? What's their history?"
Never "What're the morals they're living by today?"
Never "How're they doing with their own anxiety?"
Never "I wonder if they're doing okay."
Never "We should be friends because they're good people."

I used to wonder all the time
What people thought of me.
Now I wonder some of the time
How I should think of them,
And in turn forget a little about me.

Tell me, what have you learned?

Where do I begin?
I have learned that
The human experience
Is common to all mankind
And yet each man's life is unique.

I have learned that
Discrimination is unavoidable
For how can you ask a person
To not have their opinion or thought,
But that what man does with that opinion
Is more important than him having it.

I have learned that
Not everyone who is in the position
To teach you, to nurture you, to mould you
Has your best intentions in their hearts.

I have learned that
Love is always conditional
Even when we say it's not
And insist there are no strings attached
Because if love were truly unconditional
Then there would be
No war, no abuse, no struggling, no fights.

I have learned that
I am not the person reflected
In the iris of another's eyes
But rather I am still learning who I am.

I have learned
Many things which words cannot
Begin to describe or articulate
So I just have to end with:

Tell me, what have you learned?

It's a blank canvas
waiting for paint to be
splashed
stroked
swished
splattered
slung
slapped on it.
I've got the canvas;
I've got the paint.
I've got the page;
I've got the words.
But I don't got the muse.
Or maybe I've got too much muse.
Either way, I sit here with my chicken scratch instead of a Monet.

10 years, 17 days, 5 hours, 29 minutes and 48 seconds.
But who's counting?
I mean isn't that a super cheesy thing to do?
To count how long it's been since I realized
That I was over heads and heels
In love with you.
I guess I'm a cheeseball. shrug

38.2 times an hour.
Sure it's just a guesstimate,  
But I don't think I could actually count
The number of times I think of you.
So I should really just say "infinity".

7 out of 10 "Thank you's"
I say a day is to you and for you.
To you: you saved my life that day.
To you: you save my life every day.
For you: you are so...AMAZING.
For you: you're the best man I know.

26 years of struggling with the human life.
20 years of a broken, beaten body and soul.
But...
6 hours of willing suffering.
3 days of death.
Then...
1 "yes."

To the Man who knows my heart
Better even than i do myself,
To the Man who loves to bind my wounds
When i can't bear to look at them,
To the Man who makes me laugh
When i least expect to even smile,
To the Man whose broad shoulders
Have been the hanky for my many tears,
To the Man who loved me
Before i ever knew He existed,
To Him I say,
Yes.

On the days when I don't think I'll make it,
When the burden of life refuses to lessen
Its interminable persecution of my soul,
I pull out a rubber band and slip it over my wrist.
A snap for the driver who cut me off.
A snap for the girl who wouldn't stop jabbering
In the movie theater on her ridiculously large mobile phone.
A snap for the man who abandoned his kids.
A snap for the woman who punched them.
A snap. A snap. A snap.
Until my wrist is raw and red.
It should be tended to, but I just ignore it.
Life doesn't care so why should I?
I crawl into bed and shut out the noise
Until all that's left is the emptiness in my head.
Then I sleep.
But when I wake, something is different.
Something small has changed.
And my fingers travel of their own volition
To snap, snap, snap, snap, snap away.
But it's gone.
The band that held my anger in check,
The band that kept my mask in place,
The band that made me feel whole,
The band is gone.
And in it's place is a bandage--
My wound now wrapped and dressed
As it should have been.
I don't know who did it,
But someone was kind to me...
That little change slips over me
Like a new coat,
Makes me hold my head a little higher,
Slips into my soul
Like a good hot meal,
Makes me willing to smile a little easier,
And now I see a small respite
From the interminable persecution.


To those who do not have depression:
Your small acts of unasked for kindness towards us affected by any degree of depression can make a huge difference.

To those who suffer this along with me:
*There is always hope. We just need to learn to lift our heads up and look for it.

If I could
I would pack up my life
And drive across the Continent
To settle someplace new
And colder because I hate heat.

If I could
I would write poetry all day
And watch movies all night
Until I'm ready
To brave the world again.

If I could
I would join a dance class
And learn the basic
Foxtrot, waltz, and cha cha
Until I could twirl around
A ballroom
From sunrise to sunset.

If I could
I would "catch them all!"
And find the joy
In all the missed days
Of my childhood.

If I could
I would give back
All the years I took
From you.
The advice you gave
Both willingly and not.
The love we shared
Both unconditional and not.
The future I prevented
You from achieving or not.
And I'd give back
Whatever else you want.

If I could
I would...

At 10:32 at night
There isn't much I can do,
Except say to you
Goodnight.

Or maybe even,
Goodbye.

I will ask only once:
In all the 36 months
We danced around each other
Did you ever want me as a lover?

Did you dream of holding my hand,
Of sinking into me like quicksand,
Of romping with me in Dixieland,
Of making plans with me beforehand?

Did you?
*I did.

On Monday I took a bus to Chinatown,
Wandered the streets like a tourist.

On Tuesday I sat in the Park all day
Watching squirrels dashing to and fro.

On Wednesday I slept in late
Because well...it was Wednesday.

On Thursday I bought a MUNI pass
And rode from North Beach to Daly City.

On Friday I ran Ocean Beach
Not for the exercise but to chase sea gulls.

On Saturday I meandered the empty halls
Of the old academic institution I attended.

And on Sunday, when I had done all the
Things I used to love doing in this place...

*On Sunday, I laid you to rest.

Nothing under the sun
Rhymes with "orange."

According to the OED,
And in my book the OED is the AUTHORITY,
(At least when it comes to English words.)
There is only one word
That rhymes with "orange":
"Sporange".

But this doesn't count
Because it has the word "orange" in it!

Nothing under the sun
Rhymes with the word "orange."

They say time slows down
The closer you get to the speed of light.
I must be flying through space
Leaving a trail of blaze
Streaking through the sky
On this midnight train
Called Insomnia
Because these last few seconds
Felt a hell of a lot longer
Than all of last year.

It was sugar coated,
The truth you attempted to pass on to me.
I told you not to hold back,
That I could handle whatever needed saying.
But you censored the truth,
Coating it in a thick layer of deceit
Topped with a cherry of half a truth.

And when I finally step away
From your hilltop grave,
I think I understand
Why you tried to hold my hand
And kept up the ruse
Of the sugar-coated truths.

All you left was a note saying "I'm sorry."
Because that is all you could
Muster the strength to say.
All you left was a note--bloodied
Rather than wet with the tears
You were too scared to shed.

You hated goodbyes.
I always knew this.
I hated them too.
The finality of it all is unbearable.

But I wish you'd given me a chance
To say goodbye to you.

I know you thought I wouldn't understand,
Wouldn't comprehend your need to go.
I guess that's something we'll never know.
But I'd like to think I'd've taken your hand
And pressed my lips to your temple
And whispered "I love you.
Goodbye."

Because if I didn't get it then,
I certainly get it now.

So all I can do
Is press my lips to your headstone
And whisper
I love you. Goodbye.

They say we're all looking for someone
Who will love us as we deserve,
Someone who will take in all our flaws,
Put up with all our idiosyncrasies,
Accept all our apologies,
And say "I love you" over and over again.

But what if that isn't really what we need?

What if what we need is someone
Who can see through our painted masks
And coping mechanisms and backgrounds
And upbringing and learned habits
And realize that we love them?

What if what we're really looking for
Is someone who will let us love them
The way we know how.

What if what I'm looking for
Is someone who accepts
The freshly washed car
Or vacuumed living room
Or home cooked meal
Or day at the theme park
Or new pair of shoes
Or message on the mirror
Or giant bear hug
With a whispered "thank you"
As my way of saying "I love you"?

What if to be loved,
What we really need is someone
Who will let us
Love them?

My heart stops and skips a beat
When I see your face on the inside of my eyelids
And I struggle in vain to keep
The tears from spilling over and falling out.

I know I said I let you go.
I know I said I've moved on.
I know I said I'm ok.
I know I said I'll find someone else to love
But,

******* it.
I miss you.

The pleasant cacophony
Of mirthful feasting
Surround and invade my soul.
In the midst of the crowd
I stand
And yet alone.
Always has it been.
Ever it will be.
It longs for belonging,
For acceptance, for connection,
My soul.
But when every attempt
At conversation falls into
Short and stilted phrase,
When every try to be friendly
Is met with cold shoulders and icy glares,
I'm left to quietly sip at some iced beverage.
And it is harshly reaffirmed:
I know I will never find what I'm looking for.
And there is no consolation in that.
Just an unrest, a disquiet,
That slips through every fiber of my heart,
And without another's notice,
I slip away
Back to the dark confines of the solitude
I have come to call home.

My brother in arms was laid to rest
Amid a fanfare and pomp as was their best
For such was surely his deserved reward
To honor his heart and spirit and love out-poured.

And this was he: a simple man in plain clothes
Who willingly stood beside us lesser folk
Yet never his nose was higher than us
For he knew he was not greater but just

A man who sought to love and to be loved,
To help others with no cost in mind,
To remind us all with every passing day
That life is good when we treat each other well.

And I watched them raise their arms in salute
With tears and cries threatening to break forth
From soldiers' steeled hearts and guarded eyes.
They loved him as a brother, a friend, a father.

And I repented of my own dark ambitions
To leave this world cleaner with my passing,
For there is no peace for others
In our taking of our own lives
Whatever the feeble justification;
Just loss and emptiness with no direction.

But these who stood around his grave
Had light and purpose in their eyes
For though he had gone into Death's arms,
He had not left them empty-handed.

He left them love and peace and purpose.
And the aspiration to be half the man he was.
And this I saw was his final farewell,
To be the inspiration to others as he was to me.

How do we honor him?
How do we say goodbye?
We keep his words in our thoughts
And love as deeply as he did us.

We raise our glass for the DedPoet.
Sláinte!

Tucked away in a hidden pocket
Of an old worn leather wallet
Is a faded folded Polaroid
I take out for yet another glimpse.

You know how your heart swells
When you finally find that piece
To the puzzle that is "you"
You've been looking for all your life?

You know how your eyes close slowly
As you absorb the feeling of knowing
These are your people, this is your place,
This is your world, your universe, your home?

What about how your fingertips numb
And your brain refuses to calm down
Enough to let you sleep and rest and heal
Because it has sunk in at last:

That piece to your puzzle is lost forever,
And there will never be a place for you to belong.

That hand that gently grips your shoulder
In a soft show of support
Will always be just a touch foreign.

That encouraging smile that stretches
Across a familiar face as you try again
Will always seem a little out of place.

These people are not your people,
This place is not your home,
This is not where you belong.

Your people are gone and
Your home was destroyed,
And those who knew you
Are far and long gone.

I don't want this to be my norm.
But I don't belong anymore.

I.  
A word that defines
Only one thing
And yet covers a universe.

I
Is me,
And yet is you.

I
Is strong, stubborn, iron-willed
And yet supple, compliant, meek.

I
Is fair beauty
And yet homely.

I
Is man
And yet woman.

I
Is small
And yet...not.

I
Is me
With you.

If you wait just one more day,
If you give me just one more shot,
If you hold off on letting go,
I promise you...

*I'll be worth it.

"I keep thinking
That you're going to walk
Through the door
And then everything
Will be ok.

I keep thinking
That you'll call my name
And meet my gaze
And then my fears
Will dissipate.

I keep thinking
That you'll save me,
And whisk me far away
And then I
Will breathe again.

I keep thinking
You're my safety net.

But you'll never be
What I need you to be,
Or what I want you to be,
Will you?"

*Asked the face in the mirror.

When I was a kid
It was so easy
To get lost
In the depths
Of my overactive imagination.
I dreamed up worlds
Of saturated colors
In arching storylines
With characters I knew better
Than I knew myself.
They were my escape.
There were "Kristen" and "Melanie",
The sisters who loved unconditionally
In a southern style home
Transplanted to the landscape
Of the Pacific Northwest.
There were "Tadgh" and "Samantha"
Who wrote melodic masterpieces
To match the turbulent serenity
That threatened to pull them apart
With every corner turn in life.
There were so many others
That I poured my time into,
Creating a universe
I so desperately wanted
To permanently live in.
Though I was their creator,
Their molder and former,
I was also a mere visitor,
Just pressing my nose against the glass.

Now sometimes I wonder
Whatever became of those characters.
Did their stories turn into the fairytales
Everyone hiddenly desires for themselves?
Did they wind up finding love
And family and happiness and peace?
Did they struggle and fail and lose at life?

Some say I could go back,
Find the threads of their unfinished tales.
But that isn't possible.
It isn't possible because I've grown up,
And the door in the back of the wardrobe
Has become a flat panel of wood.
And I'm left with my nose
Pressed up against the glass of memory.

They say I'll forget...with time.
But I don't think they ever met you,
For you were the most sublime
Of all the universe ever knew.

And it's true what I said,
It was always you.
It will always be you.
I'll never forget.

I can't forget.
Sláinte

I would that you could see
The twinkle of the stars above
As the wind sweeps through the trees
In a night warmed by summer.

I would that you could hear
The crinkling, crackling bonfire
That burns in a wildflower-filled field
As the crickets sing their own song.

I would that you could taste
The sweet strawberry wine
I left to age for days, just for this night,
In a brown flip-top bottle.

I would that you could do
So many things like these,
For that would mean
You were still here with me.

That would mean I hadn't stood
Alone on that hill in the Northwest
In the bone-chilling ache of winter
Watching them lower you down.

That would mean I haven't lost
Days, weeks, months, and years,
To the sepia-toned fading memories
Stored away in a lockbox in my mind.

That would mean
*So many things to me.

I sat beneath a willow tree
To sing about my sorrows,
And who happened upon my knee
But a cricket named Jiminy.

Girl, why you crying?
Can't you see the sun still shining?

"I don't think you'd understand these tears of mine.
I don't think you'd comprehend this pain of mine."

He just looked and winked at me,
Why don't you give me a try?
I shook my head and closed my eyes,
"Ok, I'll let you try

"To understand these tears of mine,
To comprehend this pain of mine."

And when I was done with the crying,
I looked up and saw the sun still shining.

And gone from my knee
Was that cricket Jiminy.

And a smile spread from ear to ear,
For I had let go of all my fears.

He's not gone forever, you see,
Just gone for now from me
To help the next lost girl with sorrow
Singing underneath a willow.

But he'll be back.
For always he'll be
My friend Jiminy.

I keep looking back over my shoulder
Waiting for someone to call out
But there's only silence.

I keep looking back over my shoulder
Wondering when the other shoe will drop
But there's only silence.

I keep looking back over my shoulder
As if the next time there'll be a different view
But there's no change.

I keep looking back over my shoulder
Because I keep hoping to catch a glimpse
Of hope for my future in my past.

But my scars have healed.
It's only my finger tips
That can feel the memory of the pain.

If only I could keep looking forward,
I'd see my footsteps leading my way
From the darkened alleys of the past
To the brightly lit highways of the future.

It's time to drop the hope to find hope
Somewhere behind me
And just live

Without looking back over my shoulder.

That's the real hope.

I craft my haikus
By counting syllables on
Dancing phalanges.

I found my Voice hiding in a box
Thrown in an dusty attic corner.
I coaxed it out and brushed it off,
Gave it some warmed milk for comfort.

I found my Voice but had to trick it to speak,
For it refused to utter a word and kept silent.
I found my Voice, but I had to wonder,
What's the point when it hadn't wanted me?

I gave up on my Voice; tucked it away in my pocket.
I forgot it existed until you ran into me.
"Oh!" my Voice cried, cracking and straining.
And we both were stunned into silence at the noise.

My Voice became familiar
As you coaxed it back out.
And the gleeful mirth we shared
Became my normalcy.

And I forgot to wonder how my Voice sounded
Because you made it possible to hear every day.
I grew to love my Voice and what it would say,
But I forgot my Voice was bold because of you.

I haven't heard my Voice in awhile now.
The day you left, so did my Voice.
I've gone back to wondering if I'll hear again
The strong sure ring of my Voice.

I'm determined to learn the secret
Of finding my Voice and keeping it.
Because I don't want to ever rely
On another person to make it so.

So I'm practicing now
But I've a long way to go.
That doesn't matter though
Because I already know
What I'll say first
When I find my Voice again:

I'm so much better off without you.