After years of aimless wanderings
Leaving behind the cities of midnight revels
And the fevered journey in metro rails,
I am back at the land of my people.

Wherever I went,
Under which ever roof I slept,
I had carried my land,
As a jewel in a casket
And ensured it rested safe
Ever under my pillow

As I moved with aliens
Unable to merge with their cultural mores,
I saw my land glimmer in darkness
Like a dew drop on a moon blanched leaf

When I sweated in the blistering sands
A patch of green landscape, like an oasis
Wafted me in a cool embrace
Then dreams poured in like star light
And I wandered in the meadows of my youthful love
My heart struggling to forget old longings
And memories lashing upon me like tidal waves

Pursued by that inalienable shadow
Suddenly being born in flesh and blood
I hastened to the streets of my youth
With hopes galore and plans vivid

But alas! There is none to recognize me
Oh! I am a stranger here
An unwelcome stranger among total strangers
Now I wonder which is truly my land?
The one left behind or the one just landed in?

Oscillating between these two worlds,
My fractured identity looms large
With worms of memories wriggling in my flesh
And a myth suddenly dying in my brain

I'm not sick
but I'm bleeding just the same
I'm not forgotten
but I can't remember my name
I carry a bag of stones
taken from my kidney in claim
I look down on my feet
no feet but guns and they take aim

I look up at the sky
no sky but tree crowns so dense
in front of me, as far as eyes can see
are waves and they build a fence
Faces from within look at me confused
muffled voices tell me I shall be reduced
Just me, my guns and my kidney stones
but I refused

I fell into a pit that looked like my face
They made me swallow my stones
Waking up inside a maze
I think these are my bones

Am I dead
or just insane
my guns are wet
is it all in vain
I regurgitate the stones they fed
spit out blood, the taste got plain

The maze of bones stands aflame
I dry in the heat
I hear a click, my feet to blame
I look down and pang!, I smell burning meat
I open my eyes, push through the frame
only a dream, I'm on the edge of my seat
Looking in the mirror, I fear this isn't the end of this game
I see the bag of stones and my reflection says "repeat".

Come join us in the garden
Your army days are done
Sit down and take it easy
Enjoy soak up the sun.

Now you need no longer worry
You will never be going back
Relax no need to hurry
Just forget about the past.

You say it's hard to carry on
Leaving the horrors of war behind
You often have those nightmares
From behind the enemy line.

So look now toward the future
The poserbilitys they are vast
There is that new horizon
Even though it's hard to grasp.

Come join us in the garden
Leave those fearful days behind
Look at all the lovely flowers
Representing peaceful times.

Look at this gardens beaughty
The war just had to end
Who knows what lies ahead of you
Your enemy could become your friend.

I don’t want your fingers to bleed
while holding the pieces of my broken heart

I don’t want your eyes to cry
for the pain that lives inside me

I don't want your tounge to taste blood
each time it whispers my name

I don’t your hands to shiver
while reaching for my cold soul

I don’t want you to suffocate
while drawing air to my lungs

I don’t want you to consume
the venom that flows inside my veins

I don’t want you to break down
in the process of healing me

So I’ll love you but only from a safe distance
Knowing that we don’t belong to each other
I’ll always love you
But will never show it

it hurts
a sharp jabbing
pain in my
lower side
just above my
stomach

i only feel it
when i start
to think
too hard

it often aches
throughout the day
snakes downward and wraps
itself around my legs
squeezes my muscles
so tight i can’t sleep

the pain
screams
that i am not
good enough
that i never
have been and
never will be
good enough

there are purple
bags under my eyes
i keep them full
at all times

full of
what?

full of
words

words like
“no”
“can’t”
“want”
“practical”
“best”
“should”
“plan”

heav­y
words
that pull my
head down

so that i focus
on the floor
my own feet
and the thick
vine winding
up from the
ground trying
to choke me out

lately every
step has been hard
trying to pull
the roots up
so i can begin
to move forward

it’s slow
and the pain
and the words
make it slower

and i am tired
so tired
all i want is to
stop moving
just for a
bit to rest

afraid of
what i know
about myself
and how if i
pause and
slow down

my body will
come to a
complete halt
and more of those
dead weight words
might tumble out

words like
“wrong”
“want”
“work”
“will”
“can”
“happy”
“no”

until i am buried
under an avalanche
of double negatives
and wishful thinking

and still the pain
keeps on throbbing
as i keep swallowing
down my toxic words

So swift to burn second chances
but casual cruelties do not equal honesty

Strength at the expense of others
is not strength at all

I've walked into the dark woods
It lies obliterated, charred
never as damaged as the ones who are scarred

Wells of patience are not frequently found
steadiness is rare and grows from the heart
judgement has been bled from my veins

And treading the path of truth, my art

There's a silence
my senses aren't familiar with
but not one in defiance
less a silence, maybe more a bliss

You must know
all I've met were loud
creatures of big words, a big show
and so very proud

Of this quietness I know so little
all that shouting, felt like I had to go through with it
always finding myself in the middle
deafening noises in an endless pit

There's a silence
though I adore it I never wore it
quite as well as I could have
But now I sense an alliance
within this noiseless place in which we sit

Almost felt offended by the lack of words
but I make peace eventually, realizing
not silence but the emptiness of noise is what hurts
and though this silence still at times feels paralyzing

I know now more of honesty
no glass words to see through
an impeccable decency
is what I want to believe is true

There's a silence,
which is a calmness,
that makes me feel safe
from the mess

Walking into a train station
is like walking through a wrinkle in time.

Somehow the gravity and the energy of the hustle and bustle of the metropolis around you
finds its center. Not so slowly,
it begins to stir.

People are going places, moving too quickly onward to whatever bigger and better place it is they're getting to to appreciate the world in which they already exist.
They walk at two paces: either it's too slowly for anyone else to follow, or too fast to follow behind anyone else in the natural ebb and flow of humanity.
The former remain oblivious.
The latter brush by, passing onto you the rushing that has set into their souls.

You don't know much about a traveling life when you're not boarding a train.
All you know is the information of places and arrival times provided to you in neon lights,
and whatever it is that overcomes your body and being as you see people rush through the gate to their designated platforms.
Some feel an unceasing anxiety.
Others feel an ineffable and unquenchable longing to be transported into the world across the gates.

For the first time in your life,
you realize how truly insignificant you are. For the first time in your life,
you define translucence. For the first time in your life,
you are in a place full of people who do not know you, would not miss you, and, if you made a split-second decision to buy a ticket to the place farthest from home, would not question you if they even noticed in the first place. For the first time in your life,
you are really and truly free;
freer than you've ever been before.