She took me in as a stranger
loved me like her own
thought of me as her own
gave everything to an ignorant and rude little girl

She taught me how to chew with my mouth close
she taught me how to recite the months
she taught me how to write perfectly
she taught me how to eat food
she taught me the basic guidelines of BECOMING HUMAN 101

She didn't get anything back in return
didn't ask for it nor expect it
just wanted me to become my best
just wanted me to become the greatest

the little girl became a teen
she started talking back to a person who most cared about her
she became a little snot who thought she was above it all

Yet, for everything she ever did to me
she altered my life
she changed my destiny
so
this is for you which words are inadequate to express
this is for you for every tear drops and heart breaks I gave you
this is for you who has no vanity whatsoever but truly, genuinely wishes the best for me
this is for you
one person in this world who I believe embodies the word Perfection
this is for you whom words i love you are inadequate

this is for you...

My eyes, like camera lenses, can focus on sole object and blur the rest

For so long,
you are all I saw
For so long,
you were the focus
For so long,
I thought I was yours too

But just now
I realized that it was my imagination

but still
when I tried to blur you
and focus on the world
the other things that actually matter

you still are the focus
the crystal clear form
while the rest of the edges are blurred
through my broken camera lenses.

9-11-2001

the ugliest numbers

the last minute good-byes

Sudden crash all red and black

Falling bodies thumping agonies screeching

No innocent nor guilty nor black nor white nor asian nor latino

no lines

just the blind eyes of death

fueling getting bigger becoming stronger eating and taking more and more and more and more

subdued quiet memorial

reconstruction better rise of the new

still

when this moment comes

red and black and dead

the ugliest numbers

9-11-2001

when you die
  where does the soul go?

back in the soil
to grow out as a beautiful daffodil

up to heaven
to reunite with your loved ones

below the earth
to enter the gates of the Underworld

into someone else's heart
to spread the legacy

when you die,
   where does the soul go?

because I will search every plant, fly up to any distance, dig every grain of dirt,  delve into everyone's heart

to find your soul once more.

I wish I could write
in an effortless way of a transient thought

release the anger, release the pain
in some agonizing yet delicate scream
all conveyed in typed words

I wish I could write
but the unbridled passion only is just my passion
not talent

the emotions capturing me into a haze
yet the words refuse to come
only the feeling, the moment's exhilaration disappearing in thin air  

I wish I could write
well enough not to doubt myself and have inner brain debates against myself
that only momentarily quiet in my blissful sleep

I wish I could write...

they say that monsters live under our beds
or in our souls
or in us
but they are wrong.

monsters live in the dusty corner of the old memory lane
it lives in his fleeting but indifferent smiles
it stitches back the broken heart in an old band-aid
already used and covered in dried blood

monsters live in the notes of an old lullaby that mother used to hum
it drifts within the chilled November air of the time she gone to heaven
it breathes the familiar smell of burnt twigs and spray cans that decorates her tomb

monsters live not in the souls of our hearts
but around the souls of the gone and the dead

we think their memories are safely tucked and locked
the key thrown all the way in the middle of the Pacific Ocean

but no,
it always comes back
at night
through our hollowed brain
we see them
not the beautiful humans they once were
but as hideous monsters, slowly eating up our hearts