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You sing me to sleep
with stories
so creative
and active.

You sing me to sleep
with encouragements
and compliments
that drip
with sincerity.

You sing me to sleep
with sincere words
and gentle reminders
that I am loved
and I am worth it.

You sing me to sleep
with an assurance
that I am likable
and I am enough
and that tomorrow
I will wake up
still loved
because I have you.

You sing me to sleep
secured in the fact
that you are there
and you care for me.

You sing me to sleep
by quieting my fears
hushing my insecurities
speaking life to me.

You sing me to sleep
by reminding me
I am not alone
I never have to be.

You sing me to sleep
by pointing out
that I have a God
who loves me
and I have you
who looks out for me.

You sing me to sleep
by showing me
the difference
between being exposed
and being known
and letting me know
that with you
I am known.

You sing me to sleep
at bad nights
when memories crawl
beneath my sheets
penetrating my lungs
flooding my veins with fear
strangling the breath out of me--
you whisper gentle reminders
of who I am
until I calm down
you make sure to stay up
until I can fall back to sleep
you are there for me
you are true to your promise.

You sing me to sleep
that is why I told you
you are
and you remain to be
my sweetest lullaby.
To you who inspired most of my poems. To my sweetest lullaby. :)
  Jun 2015 Henrianne Dela Cruz
Nemo
My name is not important. It was the first of many predetermined decisions that I myself had no say in. But today I went outside and the clouds looked like giant white manatees swimming through the depths of the sky, and it was beautiful. And I'm only mentioning this because it was beautiful. And every single beautiful thing is always worth mentioning.
I was sitting on my porch and letting the sun rub against my skin, when I heard a small voice calling out to me. At first I could not here exactly what the voice was saying but it sounded like a question. I looked down and noticed a small colony of ants walking in a line from one end of the sidewalk to the other except for one who stood still. The voice called out again and I leaned in to hear what it was saying.
"What's the difference?" It called.
And I said, "What?"
"What's the difference," it said again, "between you and I? Every day so many of you live your life just like we do directly below your feet. Working and working. Working so much it's become like an instinct for you. And are you even sure who, or what, you're working for? You work because they tell you to work. They make you think your value lies in the amount of work you do, or how much you get paid to do such work. Then you teach your children that they too must work, in order to acheive their dreams and desires, or your dreams and desires for them. You encourage them to walk in straight lines in the same direction to the same destination. Warn them not to stray, because it's not safe, not secure. But in some ways you are worse than us. You are slaves to money and to time. Or rather, you are slaves to time, and because of that, devote your lives to money in order to slow down time. We are mearly slaves to survival. Survival. This concept must seem foreign to you because you've all become so comfortable and complacent that you're barely even alive."
He paused.
"Stand up and live."
And with that, he fell back in line. I tried to keep an eye on him, but lost him in the line
KL
Why do you only see
what is wrong
what is bad
what is kulang
What is sobra
in me?

Lately you look at me
in a negative light
all the time
and you are one to preach
to not tag other people
to bully someone
calling it cyber-bullying
when it was friendly
conversation
I didn't tag strangers
to humiliate
I tagged friends.
But remember when
you raised your voice at me
in a public place?
I was humiliated
too...
by you.

Lately you have been
so critical of me
and I appreciate
that you notice me
but really
stop pushing
your convictions
to me
or to everyone

Remember grace
correct and restore
I received correction
but no restoration
BUT REALLY STOP IT.
Bb
You push me away
then pull me close
and you reject me
and tell me you miss me
and act liek nothing is wrong
and share random stuff one moment
not talk to me for days next
and somehow
in this push-pull friendship of ours
everytime you come back
after hurting me for days,
weeks, sometimes months on end
everytime you talk sweet to me
after harsh words
everytime you pretend
like everything is cool
and nothing happened
and you didn't hurt me
brushing it off as bad mood,
bad day,
bad timing.
everytime you bounce back
i get annoyed with the fact
that i don't even pretend to be okay.
that it really is okay
all that matters at the moment is we are friends again
and you are talking to me again
and i can't not care
and i can't shut you off
the way you shut me off.
i guess this is what it means
to love the unlovable.

But i really care
and i really love you.
On D...
You and I
we are much a like
do you know
how pack animals live?
An alpha is the head of the pack
he makes sure everyone
is okay and alive.
But when a wolf is separated
from his pack
he becomes an omega--
a lone wolf
and omegas are very vulnerable
and lonely.
They are the wolves
typically depicted
howling at the moon
crying out for help
"I am alone.
I don't want to be alone anymore."

You and I
we are much alike
two omegas
howling at the moon.
We heard each other's cries.
And when two omegas meet
they become a pack on their own.

"We're not alone anymore."

You are my alpha.
And I still smile
everytime I remember
what you said.

"I'll let you meet my friends."
you said out of the blue
"Why?"
I asked you.

"Remember when I said,
it is just the two of us?
Well. It is time to meet the pack."

But I was scared.
What if you find out
that I am not really a wolf.

What if you knew
that I was a fox
all along?
On fears of making friends.
I still see your smile
when I close my eyes
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