When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.

I long to meet a Guinevere
So many poems I'd pen
Like Guinevere by the Azure Mere
Or simply, My Sweet Gwen

I taste the sound of Guinevere
Tis salt upon my lips
Perhaps she'd be my Gwenhwyfar
Sweet wine of Arthur's sips

Smooth and fair my Guinevere
Of her so many songs be sung
I'd love you o'er and o'er, my dear
Tomorrow I'd have ye hung.

r ~ 4/22/14

Jealousy.
I don’t like to say the word.
I dislike the shape of her.
The way she dips and curves—
she ends on a self-assured slant
as if to imply that you’ll be back for more.
 
Nothing sweet to offset her bitter bite
as her slimy saltiness rolls over your tongue.
She seeps into each and every open crevice.
To resist her is useless—
she’s designed to commandeer.
Your mouth will only produce words
soaked with her disdain. 
 
It's no secret you're at her mercy
as you watch another’s fingers
run through his hair.
If you have teeth, grit them.
If you have fists, clench them.
Narrow your gaze until  
her green vines uncoil and twist through
your arms, your legs.
A cartographer crafting
a brand new map of veins
pumping something stronger than blood.

Your misery is her victory,
and she makes no promise
to quiet her celebration.

It was January when I wished to have an adventure
Like climbing a mountain; just being one with nature
But you seemed disinterested. You didn't make plans with me.
You simply said, "Don't worry. Someday. Maybe."

On Feb fourteenth, I made some chocolate parfait
Hoping we can enjoy the love-is-in-the-air day.
But you wrote me, "There are some things you have to let go."
And I thought to myself, yes some things, but not you. No.

On March, there was a pile of school stuff to work on.
Everyone was so busy to even sing me a birthday song.
As I entered the room, you just smiled and said "Hi."
And that left me thinking you forgot that today is my...sigh

End of sem, 'twas posted. Yes, we passed the exam!
With tears of joy, I gave thanks for a job well done.
I so wanted to celebrate that joyous moment with you.
But you weren't there. Worse, there was no one to talk to.

It sounds heart-breaking to know how cold you treated me.
But wait, there's more- I'm not yet done telling this story.
There were things that didn't turn out as I wanted it to be.
What happened next sums up how you ruined it perfectly.

You didn't plan that trip with me 'cause you wanted a surprise.
One day in January, you brought me to nature's paradise.
Hours of climbing up the mountains, alas we have arrived.
And that 'someday' you told me then, is a dead word given life.

I flipped that letter on valentines, and read what's written next.
"...except lollipops. Everybody loves it", that's the following text.
You said I should let go of the things that made me bitter.
And that you'd never leave me, come worse, or even better.

On my birthday, I managed to say "Hello" but nothing more.
Then I saw your doodle greeting posted on my backdoor.
"Happy birthday dear", it says. That made my day brighter.
Turns out you've worked overtime on that since two nights prior!

You went home that night when the exam results were posted.
I wasn't in the mood to talk. I'd rather sleep on my bed.
Then you placed on the table, this fruit you brought from the city.
So that's why you were missing! You bought a delish gift for me!

Looking back, I can't complain on how sad I felt initially
'Cause when I felt so down, you never failed to uplift me.
And if being with you means my every plan will not happen,
Then I'd bravely take that risk and live along these lovely ruins.