The orange and blue flames of candlelight memories from birthdays come and gone illuminate brown stains from spilt ink and paper cuts on your family's hardwood desk.
The soft mahogany that carried the weight of library books with cracked bindings, that weathered broken glass, finger scratches and runny noses.
The writing table that saw crayons and watercolors fade into pen and ink and now your old pencil with the grooves worn down right where you're used to so you can hold it without cramps as you scrawl through notebook after notebook and bite your tongue.

You can't let the heat of words burn inside your throat as you sew your mouth shut with the red thread your mom used to patch your overalls with in fifth grade.
The sagging brown and blue jeans with baby yellow fabric covering that rip in the knee where the neighborhood boys pulled your ponytails and knocked you down.
When you felt your palms scrape against the concrete and you were finally enlightened to the fact that they don't tease because they like you, but because they like to see you in pain.

Never forget that morning when that pain finally ****** you off enough that when you rode your purple “girls bike” up to the rack before saying bye to your daddy you purposefully ran your back tire over a puddle to splash the group's new ninja turtle shoes.
The sneakers your neighbor had and you were jealous of because you wear a dress and he wouldn't let you borrow because they weren't gonna match, no matter if you were trying to climb the fence in his backyard and your bare feet got scraped in the end.
The stinging of the metal matches the stinging in your palms from being tripped and the stinging in your fingertips from the days of paper cuts from making collages on that old wood desk and you write.

You write loud enough that the scratching of your graphite on paper echoes around the room and you drown out slamming doors and harsh conversations.
Your fingers are as quick as the automatic whisk that you always turned up to high when your mommy would turn around, just so you could watch the cookie batter get just… too… close… to the edge of the bowl before shutting it off in the nick of time.
In a split second moment your lead breaks and you stare blankly at the scribbled mangled words that travel in circles around your book.

And the embarrassment and anger and understanding that this world's filled with ******* wells up behind your blank eyes and bubbles in between your teeth, seeping through the red thread.
It dribbles down your chin and creates a pool atop of the grey words the clear saliva of sadness eats away at the paper and wood like acid.
Imagine what it was doing to your stomach, but don't think too much about it, just pick up the safety scissors and ignore the ocean inside.

Those scissors aren't just for paper snowflakes anymore, they're not plastic in pretty colors, no now they're heavy and metal and cold in your hands.
They're built for adults, for greying and melting faces, for the weight of a world that ignores beautiful broken bottles on the sidewalk and walks by a cute cat,
Or says “It's Just A Girl Thing.”
Or “Boys Will Be Boys.”
And they make you wish you were back blowing bubbles in your treehouse as you sneak a juice box and pretending you're the  captain of a pirate ship.
Instead of sitting at this desk with a broken pencil and dripping face.

Let me know now.
I can't wait hours and hours with my head overflowing with so many deeds.
If it's bad, it'll hurt like thorns and knives,
But it's good to know.
If it's good, my mind will settle and I'll be happy.
This long progression always happen.
God told me to wait. Don't expect too much either.
Things can go left and right, bad or good. Just don't give up.
Just let me know.
Let me know so I'll be prepared.
Let the bird chirp now before it's too late.

Ever have someone that you're so used to? Then you guys fall apart you try to move on... And it's just not the same as it used to be. You start to reminisce, on old times☁️

You knew when I was happy.
You knew when I was angry.
You knew what I liked from the gas station.
You knew what annoyed me the most.
You knew my pet peeves.
You knew what words made me blush.
You knew my past.
You knew what I liked from McDonald's.
You knew what got me sad.
You knew what made me stubborn.
You knew my laugh.
You knew my smile.
You knew the quirks I did everyday.
You knew what was my favorite color.
You knew how tall I was.
You knew how I looked from the inside.
You knew what I loved about you.
You knew what I loved to eat.
You knew what to get me on my menstrual cycle.
You knew how to hug me.
You knew how to kiss me.
You knew how I liked to be touched.
You knew what made me cry.
You knew what movies I repeated.
You knew what cereal I enjoyed.
You knew how forgetful I was.
You knew how I clumsy I was.
You knew how to respect me.
You knew what clothes I styled in.
You knew my family.
You knew my anxiety.
You knew my body shape.
You knew what I was allergic to.
You knew you hurt me.

You knew too late.

Open up a can of humans into bowl.
Add dashes of corruption and manipulation.
With a cup of the government, pour it slowly and discrete.
Dont forget to add money, taxes, high politics.
With a bag of bullets,
Drop about 20 deaths per minute.
You will need 2 tablespoons of police brutality, child abuse, ****.
3 cups of pollution and overcrowd toxic factories.
With spatula,
Flip over green gardens and wildlife.
Flatten it with concrete and buildings.
Chop up living creatures and get rid of any access fresh produce.
Add this to the chain of fast foods and overly priced merchandize.
While stirring, don't forget to add rigged votes.
Once mixed, bake in tanning bed till fake golden brown.
Make sure it isn't black.
Let it rise, but not plus size.
Take it out and stagger around it putting it on social media,
Retweeting, tagging, sharing, liking.
Let it cool then glaze it with conspiracy theories then you're done.
Enjoy America.

It was the summer I kissed you.
The summer you said hello.

It was the summer you held me tight,
Wrapped like lit stars around the moon.

Remember the orange soda drinks?
That scabbed knee from the bike ride to orange county?

It was the summer we held hands,

The time we bathed in the sun.

It was then I knew I loved you dearly.

We caught grasshoppers every evening.
It was the summer you taught me how to play ball.

It was the summer that brought tears to my eyes.

Didn't think I'd see you on TV.

It was that summer...

I kissed you from your burial stone.

I'm not beckoned to your ignoramus calls.
Why must you flaunt your riches in my face?
You seem to feed on attention and lust, I don't give in.

I ignore your commands and shun your appearance.
Who is I to be your pal you speak of?
You disgust me within, it's a struggle to tail away.

Our enduring days are behind us now.
What do you want from life?
If you tend to gloat and praise, do it elsewhere.

I shall not sink into your demeanor.  
You cause scars that cannot be settled or healed.
Can you leave people be?

If you proceed to boast, I will no longer rest my case.
Do you want crucial pain in your future?
As long as I'm alive, you will proceed to mock me.

Die.

She left.
Left with silk robes and leather luggages.
I was left.
Left with soiled pennies and a running box fan propped on the window seal.
I see the rooms, side by side.
Coral blue and pastel pink.
I dread to walk by.
Therefore I drown in bitter pungent misery.
Nothing but day old tuna and concentrated orange juice in the fridge.
She complained.
I drowned.
I anguish over how I misused my love.
Its too late.
Can't take back the knuckle shaped bruises,
The dried tears.
I admit,
We were young in that pickup truck of 1972.
Sorry for dragging you in my bitter pungent misery.
Watching all of it leave the door has me drown.
Its my birthday.
I sit alone gorging and filling in cake to escape the taste of,
Beer.

•
Duterte said, "My gahd I hate drugs."
Do drugs if ever you want free hugs
With some cardboard and tape embracing you
And a statement saying: "I did drugs too."
•
Do you see a turtle swimming in the air?
I know we're lucky, to see a sight so rare
Swirls and swivels make you feel so alive
Oblivious to the life that you are being deprived.
•
Wait. Where do I live? The monsters are near
If I enter this tunnel, there'll be nothing to fear
There's a rope in the sky, way up high
If I grab this light, will I...