Why are you always so little,
running around kicking shins,
then hiding inside a cookie jar
swearing the crumbs are talking about you
in bittersweet morsels
wiped from hands
stealing all that is sweet in your life?

i.** picture this, just for a second. instead of waving from a mile away, we walk up the gently sloping hill together, side by side. the sky sheds its bruises above us. we could hold hands, if you wanted. what do you see in the morning clouds? tell me what it felt like, to swallow a star.

ii. i think of you all the time. i’m getting used to the weird volcanic eruptions in my chest when i see you leaning against the front gates at school or lacing up your shoes or when you tell me how much you hate durian, or whatever. you’ve got a habit of inclining your head slightly when you say “all right” or “okay.” i’ve noticed all kinds of things. i wish i didn’t.

iii. but tell me more about yourself. what’s your favorite color? do you get along with your sister? are you content here, with me, lying on a vast expanse of green on a dying planet, or do you still dream of colonizing a different soil? where do you go, when you get tired of running?

iv. here. give me your palms. look—your lifeline, strong and sturdy and sure. i’d like to trace your veins with sharpie someday (or perhaps even with my own hands, if you would let me). when you cross the finish line next week, maybe you’ll throw your arms up, the universal victory gesture, and maybe you’ll think of me the same way i think of you. maybe. just maybe.

v. so let’s ditch the world tomorrow and get coffee together after school. let’s tell jokes and forget everything else exists, and no, you don’t have to worry about the bill.

A certain peace envelops
The second hour of the night,
A little mellow, a little electric,
The ratios positioned just right

I'm sure this chai I'm dreamily sipping on,
Would not seem as delectable in the day
As it is right now, with its caffeine
Making all my senses with abandon, sway

That's the thing about this hour, I say,
Its still tranquility, its silence and calm
is merely superficial; if you're up this time,
you're part of a storm

A simmering storm, with a quiet surface,
and a whirlpool of life concealed within,
A psychedelic fiesta booming with
A myriad of emotions beneath the brim

Indeed, Silence turns Audible,
Colors turn Tangible,
Misery turns Defeatable,
Loneliness turns Affable

Music begins to make all the more sense,
When freed from the cacophony of the day,
In fact, the night will tune a sweeter melody
If you'll put those headphones away

And listen! Listen to the solitude,
The slow tick-tock of the clock,
The distant horn of a car somewhere,
The occasional howl of a street dog,

The rustle of leaves as they dream in their slumber,
The whisper of the wind as it strolls outside,
The sound of Papa's snoring the sole interruption,
To the fluid rhythm of the night.

A certain contenment surrounds me tonight,
As I bid goodbye to the second hour revelry,
Where my sentiments turned to words,
And words turned into my long departed but duly returned,
*Poetry