Every morning before school
My grandma would cup exactly
Five almonds into my palm
And with her signature smile
She’d beam proud wrinkles
And she’d steadily say:
That’s heart and brain food
That’s what you need to eat
To get ahead in this man’s world
That’s nature’s secret medicine.

And six years later
I’ve kept up the almond habit
Turning it into a thing of tradition
Toasting her words because
She taught me the most important marriage
Is between my passion and knowledge.

Tomato tomahto
Potato potahto --
Wear you accent
Like a badge of courage,
There's no shame in,
Nourishing your roots.

I tried drafting a poem about the dyed daffodils perched against my window and I was even going to make a half-hearted slant rhyme for "daffodils" with "windowsills" but my slanted heart gave way because suddenly the flowers appeared so artificially tacky, so stupidly hopeful with birthday glitter dusted onto their unnaturally painted petals as they tried their best to soak up some sunshine though outside it was an ever so naturally unnatural temperamental March day coating the green grass with snow flurries though the weathermen expect nothing short of seventy tomorrow so the cold coat seems jarringly out of place like a good intention gone horribly wrong and I couldn't help but think, and think, and think

We never fit, did we?

Like autumn rains
You surprised me
And I got caught in
Your gusts of color —

So I outstretched my arms
Embraced the cataclysmic chaos
Jumped into piling leaves
Adding my own imprint
To the rusting gold collage.

When I asked for a hand,
You lent me your shoulder,

When I tripped over my toes,
You caught me by the arm,  

So I found it funny that
When you asked for my heart,
You were already my backbone.

Do you remember that Wednesday afternoon three years ago
When we made a fruit tree by stringing together store bought bananas on Christmas lights
And tossed up our sunny masterpiece on sycamore branches
Sick of more dead winter
Sick of unsproutable seedlings
Sick of Patience, the Godliest of virtues?

Tap! Tap! Tap!
I’m sitting a few feet away from the leaky faucet.
Perhaps the faucet is clued in on the old adage that persistence pays off
So it presses on, presses on, presses on…
Marching to the beat of it’s own drum
But this drumming sounds too much like hollow dripping,
Like how I imagine the IV’s medicinal potion entering into your veins to sound.

Tap! Tap! Tap!
Your mother’s fidgeting fingers are dancing nervously on a People’s Magazine
She’s thumbing through pages but her face is fixated on the clock
Mentally counting down the minutes until your surgery is done
Mentally noting the ironies of a Waiting Room trying too hard to pass off as a careless bubble of distraction.
After all the room reeks of hospital cleaner laced with some derivative of a citrus scent,
And the television is left talking to itself like some incoherent patient diagnosed with insanity
And it reminds of her of an article she perused so long ago
Which read something along the lines of “if you hang out with crazy long enough, you’ll become crazy yourself”
And for a brief moment, she was comforted

Tap! Tap! Tap!
The doctor politely knocks before entering,
Everyone raises up to surround him,
But I stay physically stay affixed to my seat
And mentally float back to that faraway memory
Where we sprung into action
Combating the cold
With the only acceptable weapons of choice:
Bright lights and Yellow bananas.

72 ways to tell if your crush likes you
Always sent me in the worst preteen spirals
Because I wasn’t exactly sure how to casually check to see
If his pupils would dilate during our conversations
And, after a few seconds of my intense evaluation, he’d stop
And ask if he had food stuck in his teeth
And, if so, then I should be a pal and tell him
Because he wanted to impress
My best friend when she walked into the room.

That summer you two held an-end-of-the-year bonfire,
Where everyone brought their troubled old exams,
Bradburying their barely year old textbooks,
While toasting marshmallow s’mores atop the education protest.

My contribution was something more of a retribution,
Because I brought the poppiest, peppiest, most duplicitous,
Beauty magazine I owned
      [It made me feel ugly and unwanted,
       Judged me by my choice in mascara,
       And set me up for heartbreak all too young].
As I watched it catch fire and morph into molten,
I couldn’t help and laugh,
Relief flooded through my veins when I saw that,
Even when the deemed beautiful is destroyed,
It crumbled down to the same unidentifiable inked gray,
Earth to earth,
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.

I’ve discovered the secret to life!
But, it may not be the most likable knowledge,
And, it definitely does not fall under “small-talk-poetry,”
Yet, it is known that everything-worth-knowing was once considered hideous.

What am I?
I’m human,
like you.

Like you,
I’m human,
What are we?

We are cells,
Cells made up of molecules,
Molecules made up of atoms,
Atoms made up of protons and neutrons and electrons.

Electrons…
The lightest charged particles,
Electrons…
Who weigh 1836 times less than a proton,
Electrons
Found a way to rebel.
Electrons
Repel the nucleic core.
Electrons
Push boundaries.
Electrons
Create space.

An atom is mostly empty space.

All of me is composed of atoms,
All of you is composed of atoms,
We are mostly empty space.

We are just reflections
Of this Universe
Staring back at each other.

Like a discordant chord striking the piano deaf,
Or a saxophone that lost its swanky *** appeal,
When you breathe down the neck of my violin,
      The horsehair refuses to bow,
When you huff out your limitations into my harmonica,
      You disrupt my harmony,
Throwing me
                                                        offbeat.

[But I refuse to be beaten].

I sing my succulents to sleep
Sip teacups brimming with cold water
House fifteen strays who have forgotten how to purr
Because not everything needs to make sense
And in these oddities I find the strength
To rationalize your death.

Over cheesecake and wine
You confessed how you felt like ****
Giving off the illusion of gold
You opened up like a fragile eggshell
Not realizing your cracks were unique
That your two halves could make a whole
That the process is delicate but doable.

I learned to juggle with oranges,
You learned to juggle with women.

Many oranges fell,
Dropped,
Bruised,
[Learning process after all],
But I mastered the trade.

I can only pray you didn’t.

I let the bananas rot on purpose because I knew that would bother you
But unlike every other time you aren’t here to store them properly
Or hurriedly down them before slightly bruised turns totally expired
And I’ll confess a pathetic truth –

Since you’ve left I’ve been so lonely
I look to the company of fruit flies
But the bright yellow has blackened
And there are still no signs
Of even the most minuscule life.

So I’m left wondering if anyone’s ever sued another
For stealing everything alive…
My heart,
My soul,
My ******* fruit flies.

Candelabra rusted over --
Steady rolling winds --
Emotionally burned out.

I wrote a sonnet to the Sun
But it went up in flames.

I etched the ashes on your heart
But your cool blood froze over the remains.

Disintegrated words
Disgruntled author
Disjointed worlds.

I was always curious about love,
But it was my caution I couldn't get rid of,
After all, curiosity killed the cat,
And I rather leave my head and heart intact,
But then you came skipping along,
Hated that my soul burst into a Bollywood song,
Stifling the feelings just didn't seem right...  
So, yeah, how about a date Friday night?

Champagne soaked apple pie
And socks tossed aside
I sank into the over-cushioned sofa
Watching the Day come to a calm end
Knowing the Night missed your excitement.

Somedays
All I can do is
nod my head
mechanically.

Other days
I can’t muster
the strength
To just maintain
That simple motion
Because one more
methodical nod might
Snap my skull
From my spine
And I dream of
At least dying happy.

Light a candle
Leave a prayer
Let worries fall away

Any problems hope will handle
And darkness wouldn’t even dare
Absorb you when the night’s gleam rivals day.

*** & Coke secure,
We sat back and
Scanned the surroundings:
     Dingy room? Check.
     Dancing candles? Check.
     Dark humor? Check.
Elements all in place,
We were officially ready
To conduct our séance
Off a twenty-dollar Ouija Board
Hot off the presses from the
Local Toy ‘R Us.

As silly as it seems
We felt a tad closer to you
Especially when we asked:
“Why’d you have to leave so soon?”
And you simply signed back:
“Because applesauce, man. It just ******* exists.”
Inadvertently proving the profound:
There’s **** in heaven, too.

3 AM and the famed
“World’s Best Coffee”
Isn’t doing the trick.

Dawn at diners
Is where the lonely
Gather for company
‘Cause we’re tired of
Laying alone on a bed
Too big for one
Too small for our thoughts
Too much of a reminder.

[Your imprint still fresh,
An outline to the right side of my pillowcase,
And some nights,
When I’m consumed by thoughts of you,
I’ll crawl into the depression,
And let the space engulf me,
Until I remember that,
Just ‘cause you laid on the right side,
Didn’t mean you were always right,
And a strange metaphorical hope
Bubbles out of me,
When I remember that
Hearts tilt to the left,
But, when you left,
It was quite heartless.]

We prefer indistinct strangers
Who we secretly hope
Have stranger problems
That maybe they’ll share
To make ours seem more bearable
But, more often than not,
We sit in a shared silence
Fatigued, insomniac, alone together,
The (lonely) only chatter with the night shift waitress.

I write your echoes
In chalk and not in etchings
A shield for my heart.

Fingertips kissing
Out of tune piano keys
Music is music.

Though you’re as amorphous as the smoke I puff out, you’re much more toxic and I can’t seem to exhale you out of my system as easily.

Your name gets caught in my throat.

Everytime.

Sarin –

An organic molecule
Used for inorganic purposes
Showering civilians
Effectively icing their insides
Contorting the human form into forced frozen sculptures
Acting as if torture was an art of the highest caliber
An acquired taste reserved for society’s finest
And this was the Michelangelo masterpiece.

Atropine –

The organic antidote,
Shoot up the stimulant to hurdle your paralysis,
Relax the respiratory muscles caught in your throat,
Your eyes team with tears because you’re allowed to melt,
Your eyes team with tears out of profound shock,
Your eyes team with tears because humans forgot humanity.

My dear I’m so sorry but,
I must confess that,
I’ve had a love affair,
With flirtatious Mango.

Though you rather not hear it,
I feel like I must disclose,
How plump
And juicy
And wet
Everything was
A sticky mess.

He tricked my tongue,
Sent me into shivers,
Cooling me down,
From summer’s heat.

He hit the spot,
Made me feel whole,
But I consumed him,
****** him dry,
Spit the pit out,
And he never really recovered.

But for that matter,
Neither did I,
The taste of untamed passion
Is still ripe in my mouth.

Ephemeral dreamers,
Are artists with bold visions,
Challenging what’s real.

"I won’t let you go—"
I cut you off with a kiss,
I like my options.

When my Dadi blinks,
She becomes nostalgic for,
Visions of Punjab.

I held you tightly —
The pressure cracked your ribcage
I loved you too much.

You fell into love,
But I feel guilty because,
You left me in lust.

The night you told me,
I have never felt so free,
I suffocated.

We walk together
But you always leave my side
When the darkness hits.

Pirated movies,
Kicking soda cans off curbs,
I’m a lame rebel.

At best you’re a rusty melody
A lyric gone foggy and distant
But don’t fret my poor lovely
I’ll  tune you right back to existence —

We’ll take on the world one song at a time,
We’ll pour our unconventional love into our rhymes.

When I met you,
everything insignificant
Sang!

Soap bubbles
blew me melodies,

Nail clippers
Tapped to the tune,

The leaky faucet
Splashed a symphony!

When I met you
For the last time,
I took a wrench to the neck
Of the racketing faucet.

Retrospectively, it was always a nuisance.

Scoffing you wrote up
The fortune teller to be
82 percent ******* and
18 percent insane.

But clairvoyants exist -
They’re people who
Realize the future
By looking to the past.

Fortune tells time and time again
That the answers we seek
Have already been taught.

In just seven steps, you can find out:

• How to make the best scrambled eggs
        [pepper ‘n love]
• How to improve Scrabble scores
        [suffixes are our friends]
• How to buy a house
        [budget before sealing the deal]
• How to think like Leonardo Da Vinci
        [infectious curiosity and commitment]

But despite the obscene amount of time,
I spend scouring and scrolling,
I can’t seem to stumble upon,
The part of the Internet,
That has the instructions,
To keep your heart happy,
While keeping my mind sane.

Perhaps the sadness and insanity,
Will be a welcome change,
Allowing us to rediscover each other,
In the most honest light.

You said “Marry me.”
By making it a statement,
You left me no choice.

Today marked the first time
I used a pipe cleaner

For its actual purpose 

And suddenly

A simple action

Turned momentous.

I found the furred wire

In an old box of crafts

My mother had saved
From elementary school projects.


As I prodded the pipe

With the cleaner that was only ever
Supposed to be used
To bend into bracelets,
I couldn’t help thinking of you.

I used to only find kisses 

In cartoon form:
Stickers attached
To the backs of coloring books
.

My greatest childhood love?
Flipping on a flashlight to
Devour my latest book
Well past my bedtime.

So clean,
So pure,
So bliss.

So scrubbing away resin
Feels akin to washing away sins
Because like Adam and like Eve
Somewhere along the line
I lost my innocence.

I looked under the desk
Beneath the bed
Ransacked the refrigerator
But came up empty.

I lost myself again
And finding me is always
The hardest process.

Maybe I should wear
A bell around my neck,
A fashion forward
“FIND ME” noose,
In preparation for the next time
I decide to disappear,
So that way my soul
Can’t scamper too far off
From my self.

Last time I was lost,
I was taped to the backside,
Of an upside-down penny,
Long forgotten on the sidewalk,
Rusting in the rain,
So copperized,
I was changed.

But now I’m a wearied traveler,
Craving comfort over building character,
And much rather just staple up signs:

      “LOST:  Five foot three female.
       Brown hair and black holes for irises
       That **** up all life in hopes
       Of soaking in the aliveness.
       HUGE $REWARD$ PROMISED!!”

But life isn’t so simple;
Inner peace is a cultivated growth
That sets it’s own pace.

…

So maybe I’ll feel like myself tonight
Or maybe I won’t feel whole for a year
But either way whatever
Smiles and scars my soul stockpiles
Becomes an extension of my existence,
An incorporation of my earthly-bound story.

They say that when it rains it pours
But at this rate I’d like to request God
To send down a divine dove to Noah
Asking him to rebuild an Ark
But maybe this time leave behind the bees
Because I’ve been stung too many times
And haven’t tasted the slightest drop of honey.

Scientists say that the average person,
Falls in love seven times before marriage,
But if this is true, I should officially declare myself
As a member of the spinsterhood because,
On average, I fall in love seven times a day.

Subway strangers
Witty waitresses
Bantering baristas

These temporary lovers,
Make me fall head over heels,
With just a glance,
An accidental brush,
A sly smile.

Maybe I’m not the marrying type –
After all, there are 7 billion 46 million people,
Bumping into each other on this planet,
And perhaps I don’t bump into “the one,”
Since I don’t believe in just “the one.”

When glass shatters
The cracks are instantaneous
Moving at 3,000 miles per hour
And while you moved 30 times slower
You managed to fly a grounded metal container
Into a lamppost with just one swerve
Crushing the casing like a soda can
The cracks were instantaneous
When the glass shattered.

Lately, I’ve been dating myself:
Beaches,
Bars,
Bookstores,
& Bedrooms…
Self care superseded structure,
I’m the happiest spinster,
Because for once,
I’m myself.

I once killed a man.

Slew him with a joke
He laughed so hard that
He choked on his own spit
And drowned in the pooling salvia.

He died happily though,
And, in the end, isn’t that all that matters?

I woke up next to you,
Watched your balanced breathing,
Chuckled at your tousled hair,
But the only difference was
Where I’d usually trace the words,
I love you on your back,
I typed them into instant message,
Got up,
Yawned,
Stretched,
Rubbed away eye crusties,
And turned off Skype.

Had I know that yesterday
Was the last time
I’d have the chance to hold your hand
I’d never let go
I’d squeeze your carpal bones
So close that they’d snap
Built pressure bursting blood from your fingertips
Seeping onto my own skin
A subtly violent fusion
That would still hurt less
Than you walking away.

On really good days
I'll leave a crisp five
In the back pocket
Of my ratty blue jeans.

That way when my future self
Feels as fragile as spun sugar
But tastes like burned bitterness
And needs to shake herself awake
Drag herself from chore to chore,
Convince herself that collapsing isn’t a cure,
[Though doesn’t the cold tiled floor feel refreshing?]
She’ll only have clothed in comfort:

         Her baggy gray sweatshirt,
         Consuming her body whole,  
         Making her shapeless,
         So maybe she can shape shift,
         Into a bird or a bat or a pterodactyl,
         And make the most of her new wingspan,
         Flying further from her fractured reality,
         Into a fabulously far-fetched fantasy.

        Her ratty blue jeans haphazardly thrown on,
        So worn that there are holes in the knees,
        Frayed hemline attesting to the tired trampling,
        But when she tries to shove a ***** tissue,
        Into the back pocket hoping it’s mere placement,
        Is enough to leave the memory behind her,
        She’ll stumble upon a long forgotten monetary love note.

Yes, you do love yourself,
Yes, I know it’s rough now,
In fact, I guessed it way back when,
But life is just a series of juxtapositions,
And maybe you’re in a hole dug so deep,
That you’ve burrowed out into China,
And now look, really look,
You’ve got a world of exploring to do!
But if you’re not yet strong enough to
Climb the Great Wall,
Don’t you worry,
Building endurance takes some time,
But until then,
Here’s a crisp five,
Go buy a Kit-Kat,
A can of Sprite,
And a cheap horror flick,
And never forget,
I always love you.

Orange rinds and coffee grinds
Take me back to easy Sunday afternoons
Playing chess with former churchgoers in your tiny café.

I met a man who didn't believe in God
But instead put his faith into the Queen
"She protects" he'd say after ousting another piece of mine
"He forgets" he'd mumble as an afterthought, directed at no one.

But as it goes one fateful day
Student surpassed teacher
And didn't think twice about killing the Queen.

As if a bomb detonated just within the cappuccino brown walls
The chessboard flung against the wall
Causalities flying in all directions
A porcelain blood bath.

He left in a hurried huff
All owl eyes all snapped in my direction
I sat frozen -- shocked.

You broke the trance
Kneeled down to pick up the fallen Queen
Placed Her Royal Majesty in my right hand
Placed a free coffee on my table.

The café resumed it's normal character
Scattered chatter and newspaper shuffling
I took a sip of the burnished brown liquid
Tasted a hint of bitter citrus
And came to conclude that there exists a distinct conflict between
Power and Empathy.