i cut my hair off once
i used to feel the ends tickle my back
but then i ran my fingers through my hair and
reached my shoulders.
i held my head higher and stood taller.
see
there's a saying that when you cut your hair short
you get a new beginning.
once those frayed ends are let loose,
a new life opens its doors for the new you.
but i didn't see a new door so
i cut it again and
now its too short for my liking.
and i hold the door shut.
i guess i have to grow it out again before
i try anything else with it.

i blink.
days spent in the library
gnawing at the bone of academia
howling on nights spent in essays
and finally lying down to rest
when the barking is all done
it passes in an instant.
i blink.
the incessant fluttering
the chirps and songs dissonant but
after a long day's work
the birdhouse still is so comforting
how the days have gone by
and so soon it will just be a memory.
i blink.
poem upon poem
upon day upon day
from birth to cocoon it grew
some poems later it took flight
there are more gardens elsewhere
its been ages now but perhaps
it will find heart to come again.
i blink.
the paws have learned
not to crawl on the piano keys
but to strut on them
the chords don't sound so accidental
rather they purr warmly
and echo even now.
i blink
and prepare for the world again.

Your voice is a pale yellow, said the boy who
Etched colors into sounds. What he didn't say was that her
Loneliness dyed it that color, and that mosaics
Like her are much more that that; but she can't see herself as art.
Only a broken heart sewn together by shaking fingers,
Whittling away on a train to somewhere.

A smile like the sun on a hot summer day
Cracks open the darkness and peeks out from
Corners of the dirtied bathroom stall;
Other days seemed so hollow that she could
Merely be flung into the air like thin sheets of
Paper with a gust of wind; but today she
Lost herself in a boy who simmered in the pool.
In an instant she learned to live. And, when given the
Choice, rather than take to the air once again, she
Enlisted in his army.

i carry my heart and it is full of emotions
and those emotions are like
waterfalls crashing with the momentum of pure gravity but
they are equally the eye of the storm in that
the scenery blurs in ugly destruction but
here all is quiet and serene
i carry my heart with me because
it is too intense, too restless to
wait for me to return from my life's voyage
rather, it shapes the ocean's winds
and guides me across the unforgiving world

a fuzzy little peach
rolled from her terrace of the tall table
off into the depths of the air and onto the floor.
i scooped her into my hands and asked her,
'beautiful peach, how did you land here?'
with a sigh, she responded,
'dear human, there are few things i can do.
once i began to roll,
i could not stop myself.'
her skin clouded with signs of contusion
and her flesh softened with the force of her fall.

'beautiful peach,
there are few things i am able to do as well.'
i did all that i could for her in that moment--
brought the fuzzy little peach to my chest
and gently held her close to my heart.

'dear human,'
she whispered,
'though it is not much to you,
to me,
it means everything.'

hello! it's been so long
it's been so long since you
talked to me like this
like this we were whispering
in each other's ears like
not even the august leaves
could have part in our affair
not even the august leaves
could know what we were
it's such a shame isn't it?
isn't it? that those leaves,
drifting down so sadly,
became september leaves
september leaves that knew
only the tears that we shed
the tears that we shed
and now the april leaves will
never know who we were
never know who you were
never know who i was
just who you and i are now
it's been so long since you
talked to me like this i almost
remembered how much i missed you

The last time I felt like this I
was a high school freshman
trying out this new word as if I'd
just heard it.
My mind escapes reality on its own accord
and returns to moments where
your summer brown eyes made
my chocolate brown eyes melt.
The image of your neck gently curving
to listen to music replays in my head
like an old jazz tune,
like I'm a chord holding out for resolution.
I sway in memories of watching
your reflection in the upright piano,
eyeing your hands gliding across
the familiar fretboard,
as I played alongside you.
I am bound to your smile.

I wonder if you've ever had a
love poem written for you?
I wonder if you even think about me?
I wonder if you even know
you inspire me.

in wonderful pieces the sky falls down
while the little girl in the corner
nibbles on the uneven ends of her fingernails
she watches with widened eyes though blurred vision
and her stomach sinks lower and lower
there in the distance stood somebody that told her
she could hold the sky together
the clouds and the sun and the starry night were
completely within her grasp she just needs to reach out she'll be okay
its too far gone in the depths of memories faded for her
to now recall those words of wisdom
rather she continues to rock gently and shake nervously
because what is she to do? the sky is falling apart
in wonderful, wonderful pieces

we fill up schedules for senior year
and imagine what we'll be then.
i'd like to imagine myself beside you,
but i can't even look you in the eyes
without my mind
clouding over with daydreams
even my pencil is at a loss for words
and a year from today
i'll still be hovering over empty love letters
but if im in the same class as you...
i might be able to say something more to you than
small talk for acquaintances
i could tell you
about the daydreams i live in
and how you are always weaved into their stories
or how you are a daydream
and im a dreamer who cant reach to the stars
but finds herself stargazing every night anyways

frayed copper wires never to be bound
electricity is lost, connections unwound, and
where one end surges in power
the other cowers, weak in comparison
i watched their awful lives and wished
someone's expert hands could finish their plight
i attempted to fix it in the past but
other copper wires are so tightly woven!
and meanwhile, this little lightbulb
flickers meaninglessly.
why no one has smashed the wires
under their feet and then in a raging fire from fatigue i
dont know.

the walls and floor were blue
in the long standing home of jazz.
i sat in that room on a wednesday afternoon
and felt that color
travelling in my veins.
i imagined the room was filled not with
sunlight and the chatter of teenagers but with
moonlight and music in that melodic silence.
i tried to absorb the aura of
that room to have for myself and breathed deeply
so i would remember the taste of blue. i imagined
myself boldly uncovering the piano on that stage and
imagined the names and legends embedded in its keys.
i heard the music of times gone now,
resounding against the walls and coloring the
wild yellow audience to subtle periwinkle and
deep sapphire and even wilder blue and
suddenly i realized why the sky is that hue;
God Himself must have taken a seat there, in that
modest blue room on
18th and vine
and it made perfect sense.
this beautiful revelation i found on
a sunny wednesday afternoon
is dyed in blue.

ghosts have feelings too
the ones that crawl over the windows at night,
the ones that live under your bed and in dusty corners,
the ones that fester in your open wounds, ****** or hidden,
the ones that you call your deepest, darkest secrets

every song sounds the same to me
somehow they bring me to you
i want to imagine you here,
humming along with every tune
every color looks the same to me
each hue of the rainbow i remember
in shades of you; all the leaves
melt into the same shade of november
every aroma smells the same to me
flowers and memories are just as sweet
if i could i would send you a million,
if it could make you think of me

every thought i have is the same, too
it all reminds me of you, you, you

what is it you think about that
makes you as special as the full moon,
and just as ethereal?
even after all this time,
i linger on the ends of words you wrote,
on stanzas you seamlessly weaved into poetry;
i remember the rich green ends of your hair
like chlorophyll saturating new leaves;
i see you in every shade of yellow
and in the soft soil of this Earth you love so much.
you said that i changed your life
but i cannot begin to explain how
your smile rivals the dazzling, celestial beauty of sunrise,
your laugh blooms as a sweet rose in spring,
and the thoughts you think are absolutely captivating.
you're somebody special

even after all this time...
we have graduated from who we were then
and stride in opposite directions.
perhaps i don't love you quite the same
as time is a funny phenomenon
but i am always wishing the best for you,
and that transcends time.
i wonder if sometimes,
you turn back and look for me in your memories?

We only met for half a minute
But that time was precious.
It filled me with
Surprise, to be honest.
But it left me with
New confidence, regardless of how small it was,
And a lot of questions
I have yet to answer about myself.

Who am i?
Who am i creating out of myself?
And is that person the kind to be
Strong enough to be approached?
And,
What can i do on my own,
Before i think of what i can do in a pair...

I thought a lot.
And that's what that half minute has given me.
A lot of new things to think about.
And i'm grateful for that.

it's starting to feel hot again
the sticky summer sun and the
cicadas calling into the night like lost children
the cool water, the stinging scent of chlorine
and fireflies like faraway shooting stars
i feel something i don't quite know what to call yet
i feel like the sound of your voice
cool as the breeze under the shade
and i want to pitch a hammock there.
or the color of your eyes in the
mysterious beauty of the dark side of the moon.
for now maybe i'll just call it
air conditioning

i’m always Howling for more out of life. (these secret thoughts
never leave the ends of my lips but now flow from the
end of my pencil so smoothly)
i’m Howling for more time in the day because i can’t
grasp enough of it to satisfy the blank pages in my journals
and my sketchbooks and my sheet music but i must always accommodate
for my shortcomings in math class
i’m Howling for a wink of sleep and i worry sometimes
that my thoughts are as jumbled up in my writing as in my mind
because i deny them rest
i’m Howling for love seriously all kinds of it
unfiltered and clumsy first date love
or subtle and persistent friendship
or the comfort of a tightly-knit family i'm serious
i’m Howling for something real
you see all my days have begun to smear into indistinguishable hues
all the beautiful flowers bloom the same and wilt the same
there’s nothing different; i’m Howling for a change of pace.
something exciting, something peaceful.
something relaxing, something enthralling.
something normal and spontaneous, confined by
nobody and always Howling for more

i want to hold you the way
leaves hold drops of dew in the morning light.
behold,
the new day shines but
not as brightly as you, my dear

I felt a soft pulse under a young boy’s
neck within my grotesque hands,
felt his breath escape his lungs like
a frightened snake in burning sands,
watched his eyes frantically search for a savior
but instead find my vile complexion.
My heart swelled with revenge against this
world that only resents me and yet
his shrill screams against the thunder,
the lightning outlining his still silhouette--
he was innocent, this I always remember.
I don’t deserve the pleasure of this hatred.

My next sin I committed against a cheerful man,
a sightseer in a beautiful, foreign land;
I closed my gruesome grip around his slender throat
and left him sleeping forever on the sand
under the luminous moon with his heart still, yet full of love;
how jealous I felt that he should die
and have someone to grieve for him, while I’m reprimanded
for living, or rather, simply existing,

My final mark I left as charcoal fingerprints
on the sweet skin of a new bride.
I instilled fright into her perfect wedding night
and, before a lake’s gentle rolling waves,
behind the watchful Jekyll to my vengeful Hyde, I
stole her life.

Her groom, a bright, scientific architect,
thought his monument a magnificent, malicious failure.
In his eyes, I am a virus upon the Earth’s body,
a hideous figure copied not in God’s image, but in the devil’s.
I should have known I’d always be alone
as my creator wishes I weren’t his own.
Doctor Victor Frankenstein, I hate every ****
inch of your perfect human frame, and I hate
the imperfections you’ve bestowed upon me.
I swear, I will reciprocate these bitter blessings
you have given me, and when I’ve ended you
once and for all,
only then can I rest;
I have nobody to love,
but I’ve got nothing to lose.

What fine weather we’re experiencing today;
Let’s go outside, let’s not delay.
We’ll chase the birds and climb a tree,
The door’s before us and we’ve got the key.
And while we’re feasting on the warmth of summer,
I’ll ask you, won’t you be my lover?
What fine weather we’re experiencing today.
But with you, it’s always a good day.

i tried to sleep.
i gripped those dreams that keep
slipping through my trembling fingers
and wondered if i should ever
hold them tenderly and securely
with tumultuous oceans brewing in my eyes
i again begged them,
stay a little longer please
and if not then allow me to
cleave my fingers from my hands so
i don't have to worry about holding anything anymore
i really tried to sleep
but i don't know how to anymore

i imagine little pieces of you
clinging to my shirt,
like dandelion seeds,
when you kiss me.

but you are much, much more than a mere ****.
you're a vivid, radiant flower in a garden of wilting stems.

and every time you smile at me
i swear,
something in me grows again.

perhaps you're the sunshine
that nourishes my growth.
perhaps you're the rain
that makes my cloudy days worthwhile.
and more than that,
you're the earth that keeps me here.
you're the dandelion that grows in my garden.

with the break of dawn
     i feel hunger following my sleep
arrives the warmth of the sun
     and the warmth of fresh breakfast
beside me is an indentation in the bed
     following its scent i linger on sugar
your scent still lingers in the blankets
     its irresistable; i'm hooked on this flavor
i hear your footsteps like shy murmurs
     sweet blueberries and soft muffin bread
lifting my eyes to meet yours finally
     i find solace in its simple beauties
you are my sunrise my dear
     the day is not complete without you

my fingers touch the piano
and gingerly the shadows rest on
its ivory white keys.
inhale, and my hands rise to
hover gently above the keys,
then exhale, and they nudge into
the body of the piano,
ringing five notes at a time.
i lift and push with more force,
and the sound sharpens,
cutting through the air,
through the background noise of the tv in the other room,
past the laughter of two boys playing video games,
beyond the quiet murmurs of the voices in my head.

redemption.
i'm working towards it.
for my teacher, whom believes i will soon
catch up to everybody else.
for my fellow musicians, surpassing me in experience
but standing beside me regardless.
for my instructors, whom led me to be the musician
i am today and will be tomorrow.
for my friends, whom cheer me on and
always will, whether i be smiling or not.

and for myself.
because i've had to prove to myself
i am capable of doing this.
that proof lies in my fingers,
in my mind,
and in my determination.
and because even now, i'm still
doubting myself here and there.
but i am not incompetent.
i am not incompetent.

i was never incompetent.

We meek children took the stage like we
borrowed it. I approached the grand piano,
and, asking for its acceptance of my novice hands,
seated myself before it. To my immediate right,
prepared for some unknown challenge,
waited our band, our rhythm and melody. Arms raised,
fingers gently hovering over keys and strings, we
eyed our cue and took it.
Three songs turned us from an uncertain bunch to a
formidable combination. We stole that stage
(as best as any high school combo could do),
and suddenly the stage lights didn’t feel so hot;
those lights shined for us. I left that piano
as a princess leaves a crowd in awe.
We proved superior.

the sky sprawled out across the atmosphere
the sun melted into a rich, bursting orange
and then into a deep, mellow lavender
clouds like sharp strokes on a canvas
drifted so slowly they
seemed to be suspended onto that artwork

from my vantage point,
having exhausted myself in study and in loneliness,
that sky seemed to knock on my heart's door
and leak into what cracks i had sustained
yesterday's despair seemed so far away in that moment
for once i admired the present for
what a gift that sight had been

for such an array of beauty
i had no words to describe
but after giving it some thought
i feel your name would fit it best

fight war with beauty. fight
evil bloodshed, the sounds of
children whimpering in the ruins of their homes and
the elderly leaving the only land they've ever loved and
the continual struggle to perpetuate war with
beauty. we can rebuild shattered buildings,
torn land, and broken flags,
but i mean the beauty found not in
material things but in our hearts.
fight not with angry slurs and
faces crumpling in careless ignorance;
fight with a full heart that hears the
stories unsaid but written in the scars of children.
fight with a heart that beats not as a citizen of
a single country, but as a resident of the
planet Earth--fight for your neighbor's right
to live without fear,  for
this sacred land to know love again, and
for humanity to know itself again.
war's costs are immeasurable and
beauty's worth, infinite.
fight war with beauty and
hate with love

i always craved something like a tragic backstory
a picturesque melancholy, shedding tears like fallen stars,
a beautiful face with a broken heart
only one person could put back together

but no one ever said
that when you broke, your eyes swelled and became blurred
and your heart shattered like glass on a hardwood floor
you don't feel beautiful at all
you don't even feel like a star
all you are is a badly written story with seemingly no ending

sometimes the rain falls a little bit harder
somedays it feels like april blues and
the rain falls a little bit harder on your umbrella
even if your window invites sunlight onto your face
and the newly birthed flowers tickle your feet as you walk past
and the grass curls softly in the wind you leave behind
and the birds chirp hello like a beautiful little chorus
and the day is new
sometimes the rain comes by and it falls a little bit harder
than it did yesterday,
so the flowers are subdued
and the grass reaches for that rain
and the birds duck for cover
and the day decides to try again later
you can try to hold a little hope but
april is not yet over

Towering new york skyscrapers scraping by,
Burning cars and crying taxis honking like a broken record,
Crushing fragile crystal windows under hurried and hushed steps,
Bumping into each other and mouthing a flimsy apology,
Digging heels into half-dried concrete and waiting to dry up as well,
Reading into life a lil too much and getting hit by a car,
I guess

incompetent.
the music in front of me blurred slightly
and my fingers curled above the piano keys.
the room filled with sounds like a rainbow after the rain.
i became that rain in the room,
and wondered what kind of light
should shine through my clouds,
if any.

a song
i write it, weaving my heart's musings into it,
open my window,
and sing

and sing
i imagine my voice catching to the wind,
taking flight as a bird flutters to find a home,
on its way
to you

to you
the wind slows and the winter air
grasps the song i sing
it is torn from the sky and
my throat burns with negativeemotions
the choir of birds do not  mind
they carry their song onwards
but mine
mine
m ine
    mine,

near the edge of the water
i sit on the warm sand,
watching the waves roll
closer to me, then away
i want to inch closer but
i can't help but simply hope
the waves will splash over my feet

as the comforting scent of the ocean
gently washes over me,
i daydream of
the schools of fish living there,
the vibrant coral reefs decorating the scenery,
the warmth of the rippling water,
and i
smile without thinking

i hide my face
how embarrassing

in another daydream of mine
i gather the courage finally
to feel the water for myself

i dip my toe tentatively
before diving in entirely

wandering in a drugless daze
among wafting dreams and empty speech bubbles
a soft acoustic plays against white walls
as we search for some sort of meaning in blank canvases
we're drowning in nothing.
we're drowning in uncertain futures
and teetering on tight ropes whilst looking down.
and yet we wake up the next day and brush aside
the colors we mixed too much on our palette
as well as the ones we don't dare to touch.
hello sleepwalkers,
dropping dead one by one from buildings
dreams of growing wings splattered on the asphalt.
hello sleepwalkers,
pressed for answers
and squeezed in between questions.
hello sleepwalkers,
the children of yesterday, the voices of tomorrow,
the unshakable nausea of ******* up and loneliness
of today.

she basks in the sun's warmth
her half brilliantly glows
she dances on starlight
soft quiet steps on each star
as she twirls, twisting
the cosmos around her.
and yet her other half
hides away, unseen
her secrets embedded in her
forever companion, the
shroud of darkness that is the sky.
how mysterious and how beautiful
she is tonight.

Above the atmosphere, beyond the clouds
Sits an empire made of cotton candy and dreams
Revolving around the Earth, disappearing every 28th

And it was there we were born,
We were raised as sisters, no doubt
Trained on hopes and shooting stars
And it was there we looked from,
Yearning for the vibrant stars twinkling
On the Earth we gazed upon

When we first grazed our naked toes against the dirt
I was looking up, afraid that home was too far now
But looking back down at your dirtied heels I found
A laugh was floating up though my throat and out

We're quite strange, aren't we?
Having never quite fit the definition of
"Normal", but rather, "Crazy"
Surely, we're both aliens from outer space
The moonbabes of this era

many people have told me
my name is beautiful
i never truly understood that
until you said it for the first time

in that moment my name left your lips
i think i fell in love
somehow in your voice
every phoneme sounded like a song
that i wanted to hear on repeat

if i said your name aloud,
would you think the same, i wonder?
i practiced a few times in the car
a few times in the mirror before bed
and in the morning before school too

my voice does not hold your name
quite as smoothly, as naturally,
as yours holds mine
but i hope you don't mind that
i hope that you come to love that
just as i have come
to love your name

in eons the Earth
found the means to create
a wonderous world populated
with lush forests, rippling oceans,
and life bursting from every corner

and yet, the planet
still spins in the same direction
the moon still
borrows her light from the sun

then tell me
what's the use of
wishing on shooting stars
they've seen every unchanging moment
they know each story ends the same way

the flowers i've planted
have never bloomed, nor felt spring
all these years i believed
with enough water i could do
something
anything

perhaps i need to
plant my flowers elsewhere
or perhaps i should
accept this broken universe

I drank a cup of coffee
But that's not enough to
Dispel this drowsiness
I live in.
I drank a cup of coffee
To deal with today;
The only way i know
To deal with every day.
I drank
A cup of coffee,
But i could bathe in
A pool of caffeine and
Run my fingers against the current
Of a river of it and
I would leave
With eyes heavier than before.

I,
I think coffee,
Is not going to help anymore.
I think,
Something inside me is
Whirling doubts about me
More snug than is comfortable.
And,
This brew
Doesnt even taste sweet,
Or particularly bitter.
It's very bland.
And i prefer to leave it unfinished
Than empty.

on my way to where i am now
i’ve carried a bag of burdens, slung on my back
and there was a hole in the bottom
and all the hope was small enough to fall out
i could tell you about my journey,
but here’s what i left out

i forgot to stop to smell the flowers
and when i did they all shriveled up
but i took them anyways and pretended they were beautiful
i forgot to look up at the sky
when the sun shone and the clouds were absent
so all i ever knew were tearing up broken hearted skies
i forgot to tie my shoes before i left the house
and i kept tripping over my own feet and when i went home
i found i’d locked the door shut myself
i forgot to dance when i heard music
with despair chained to my ankles and dried blood spilled on my feet
how could i even imagine it in my dreams
i forgot to laugh when i heard a joke
because i’d already exhausted myself just
looking in the mirror
i forgot to breathe and to smile while breathing
and to live and to love and to sew up the hole in the **** bag
before i forgot myself too

in the heat of a thunderous twilight storm
like a child swallowed by fear i
clung onto my stuffed toys
i asked them if everything would be okay
if the sun will come out tomorrow morning
and the rest of the mornings after
even if the storm continues to brew in darker places than the night
and the rain pours but not from the sky
my little fingers held big fears but
i have to grow up
so i wont have to rely on my toys
and so i can properly grip those fears of mine

the whirlpool churns,
beginning to turn frothy and treacherous
i reach my arms towards anything
but i clutch my own shirt,
and i spin.
the whirlpool turns me around
my eyes cross and i suspect i may
drown
drown
drown
i want to ground myself
but in a whirlpool
where is up and where is down
i am churning
my nails dig deeper into the fabric
this brain of mine tosses itself
into havoc

i am holding onto words
i struggle to remember
the whirlpool churns
and in turn those words are lost to me

A shell on the beach
shines with brilliance against the sand
it holds all the colors of the world
in every beautiful band on its surface
and inside, it echoes the rolling ocean
whose song its always lived beside

But the rain batters the innocent coast
and cruel winds scramble its peace,
boasting its power over that
brilliant little shell

Its surface dulls in the storm
and its smooth colorful form becomes distorted with cracks
all its hues, it wishes were subdued
it wishes it could hide under the cold sand forever
and inside,
the ocean is still
frighteningly,
achingly,
despairingly,
deadly
still.

because i've been in my own hell,
because i'm still there and
can't bear to see even
a single tear of yours
fall into your own hell,
don't ever doubt for a
single moment
that you are evolving,
that you are a work in progress,
that you deserve each breath
you take from this planet.
because,
honey,
the world should bow down to you.
the world revolves around you
in your own life,
so don't listen to your
inner demons, they aren't of this world.
they aren't of your world.
*become the sun.

already the year ends
to think that in such a short time
i have evolved from
a caterpillar dreaming of the sky
to a butterfly
tasting the clouds

and yet i long for the stars still
fortunately
another year approaches
i would like to
fly to the moon

The rain let up like a ballerina in the air,
Bouncing on her toes and holding her gentle poise,
And then beat down upon the sun-kissed asphalt,
Drumming her song as the morning carried itself along.

I, too, heard her melody and stepped into the rain
With curious feet.
She drenched me in her storm and
Indulged herself all over my hair and skin.
Rather than give a proper response,
I cloaked myself with a violet jacket and kept away from her sight.

When I peered out again,
She had taken off to someplace else,
Left her blessings to be soaked up by the wind wandering fauna,
And opened up herself to the everlasting sun.

I can't help but gaze at the sky.

i let my eyelids flutter shut
smiled coyly
held their face in my hands gingerly
stood on my tip toes and
some lips met somewhere
i can't say for sure
when i shut my eyes
i was a sea in their arms
completely enamoured
and i wanted a little bit more
just a glimpse of those eyes
looking at me
but when i looked back
i
i couldn't recognize those arms
those eyes those lips
then for whom was i smiling?

i remember your laugh
blooming like spring roses
at the end of summer
i could imagine the way your
lips parted, cheeks blushed
over the phone so clearly

i fell in love that day,
so much so that
even if i were to someday forget all about you
those roses would still smell so sweet

i want to say in simple terms
the full extent of my love for you--
the sun could not compete in its burn,
the bird's morning song could not be more true;
the cicada's crow falls short in fervor
and the moon's light cannot be as gentle.
this heart remains stubborn and will not waver
for of you it has its complete fill.
though, perhaps, the sun's light shines more close
and the bird's free flight is nearer
than i, who hovers like a ghost;
how silly it is that i consider you dearest...
in simple terms, i love you honest,
though all i can do is pine and write sonnets.