I had a dream once
You were driving, your last love in the front seat.
I sat in the middle.
Your hair looked different.
Suddenly you met across the armrests
and I had to watch as you kissed passionately,
speeding down the interstate,
totally engrossed in her lips.
I woke up:
chest pounding,
face flushed,
heartbroken.
But it wasn't real.

I had a dream once
We were in a room with a congregation
They began to pray for a fallen Knight
who passed away two years ago.
I bowed my head.
Suddenly I felt your hand on mine.
Your head was low,
you didn't look at me,
but you grasped me like a lifeline.
I placed my hand on top of yours,
and you covered that one as well,
more relaxed but still distraught.
We held each other.
We prayed together.
I woke up:
chest pounding,
face flushed,
heart swelling.
But it wasn't real.

Goals in the sky
why
Why care
you put a blade square in my back
Why there ?
would rather you have stabbed
From where my eyes could see
why you run away ?
Why can i not see
why throw my heart toward you
Why care
why you lookin at me strange
Why stare
why snare..
When you said you'd rather be..
flying through the air
Instead of tied to me..

I awoke with a start
to the silence of no beating heart
lying there underneath my ear!
I wanted to choke down my fear
yet a scream was about to unleash from me
when suddenly your beating heart broke free
and made me realize it had never really stopped--
my ears were all plugged up and when they popped
the sound came through at last so loud and clear--
"lub dub lub dub lub dub"... sigh...so precious to be able to hear!

his roots are hidden
no one knows where he has been
or what he has been through.
they only know he was elsewhere once-
an elsewhere where experiences are best left hidden

his stem is course
composed of hardening resistance,
stiffened from a difficult childhood.
this is his base, a stability within him.
these lessons hold him up and keep him going

his thorns are soft
they only look rough to give the illusion of being guarded,
but his defenses are easily torn through.
if you touch him, he knows he'll bruise
but he will never make you bleed

his petals are wondrous
their velvet smells of boys' cologne
and are dotted in dewy teardrops.
he flourishes for the hands that dares to stroke him
but the hands only plucks his petals and leave the rest of him behind

i knew i loved you
when you would be my protecting ***** guard
when your face lit up over a dinosaur book
when we took ugly photos in our blues
when we slapped each other across the face
when you weren't intimidated by my height
when we were poooooosers
when you made me laugh
when i played with your hair
when you looked at me
when we hugged minutes before i left for home

i knew i loved you
when we saw each other after a year
when we would starfish under the sheets
when you whispered along my neck
when you took care of me on drunken nights
when i nestled under your arm
when you spent christmas with me
when you wanted me for new years
when you brought me food
when i put that eye mask on your face
when you left those toothpicks on my nightstand
when you were there for me when nobody else was

i knew i couldn't love you
when you told me you could never date me
when i took you to the wedding
when you never chose me

i knew i couldn't love you
even when i always did

people crave touches,

and i thought they were absolutely psychotic

until i met you.

suddenly, i understand,

but still not really

because the only touch i want from you

isn't a kiss or a caress.

it's the sting of your hand on top of mine

sitting on a pile of worn playing cards

(two jacks, to be exact)

making a resounding smack against the table

that startles the elderly couple next to us

and your firm, determined grip

as you swear bitterly under your breath

to wrestle those jacks away from me

however long it takes you.

--glacier

The best feeling is when you look at someone and they’re already looking at you.

The best feeling is when you come in from the snow, and have the hot chocolate running down your throat.

The best feeling is when it’s raining outside, but your inside snuggled up in a big fluffy blanket watching from the windowsill.

The best feeling is when it’s done raining and the smell of pine and dirt are hung in the air along with a scent of renewal.

The best feeling is when you give a gift and seeing their face light up is the only thing that matters.

The best feeling is when you remember all the lyrics to your favorite childhood songs.

The best feeling is when the house smells like cookies and you know that grandma’s home.

The best feeling is when you roll around in the grass and feel so grateful that God gave us this world.

The best feeling is when you start with one blank page and end with thirty filled.

The best feeling is when someone tells you they love you, and they mean it.

The best feeling is me being here, sharing my heart with you.

there's a lot of questions
regarding my heart
that remained unanswered.

is it made of fragile glass
or strong diamond?

is it fixable?
hammering nails
and drilling screws in
or we just glue it all back together?

what colour is my heart?
definitely not white.
is it red?
jet black?
or merely grey?

is it beating
or maybe sound i've been hearing
were the marching parade
to respect the death of my heart?

is it broken
or it was never complete?
but then *if it's broken, how can it still beat?

Infinity tattooed on her hand
Flinching using a looking glass,
It’s smothered thoroughly
By the tides of war
She turns black and gets offended
For racist elements persist,
Her image is burned by a nemesis
Making a mockery of herself,
Her fingernails clip off
But it still rests in her desires
Slitting the plank on racism,
She shells out all her insults
And burns it like crumpled paper
Sitting in her brain- a meme,
It grins at her, dead feelings underneath.

# PREVENT RACISM # BLACK LIVES MATTER.

I.
The cold concoction between us gets mixed up,
And sails with our boat away
Into a far, far away land
Landing in the ballerina’s footsteps – so elegant
With every twist and twirl setting us into motion,

II.
We kiss the lilac sky for purple reigns in soon
And red turns my jeans green with envy,
It’s worthless but worth a try, for a trial is limited in life
Abstract rumours stick like labels on my ankles,
For it is meant to wear off and die

III.
I hear every single untainted bell ringing in me
So, is Moses or Allah supposed to reside in us?
Or is it the temples where I have placed my mind
Near a well-lit hearth ?

IV.
I outcry my pain for pure pleasure,
And my tears justify the cause for my psyche thoughts
For it scrambles like whiplash streaks on my backyard fence
So fine that even I forget my existence as an introvert in this world,

V.
The pentagonal set is no different since it outshines the rest
And by the rest I mean the crack-laden windows of my home,
The place where I reside is a mere symbol to admire,
For my virtues are dearth in meaning;
I rest with my feet laid down