I do not know
What I feel for her
But if it is something more
Than what I wish for it to be
May I forever remain
Dissatisfied

She mapped him out before she met him.

When she saw him, she recognized
The grooves of his smiling face,
The rumbling sound of his voice,
His fresh scent when he embraced her.

When she saw him, she saw her map
Embodied in man that reflected the future
That she so longed to live,
But never thought she would.

He saw it in her, too.

They drifted towards the calm sea
With tomorrow stretching out before them
On a boat where their bodies collided
Like soft waves that engulfed one another.

Their bond sent ripples into the water,
Sizzled the skies with its urgency,
Guiding the boat closer to the shore
That seemed too looming.

She didn't want to reach it.

She had travelled the streets of her map
In search of finding something to fulfill her-
Something that wasn't there
Out on the calm, open sea.

They sailed to an island with greener grass,
But with no winds to uplift her spirit.
She had the map of him,
But the map of her lay in treacherous water.

She dived into the unknown.

Dear You,

When I first saw you, I thought you were unremarkable. I didn't know, then, that I would end up this way with my insides torn to shreds over the love I wish to give you.

Perhaps you seemed unremarkable to me because your treasure lays inside of you, under the layers of humour and deceptive smiles. I saw a glimpse of your treasure when a brick fell from the towers you built to protect yourself. It was the night you told me what you willed no one else to know, a night where your defences were down.

I was entranced for a while, caught up in the thoughts of all you were hiding and who you could be if you stepped out of the tower. This was dangerous territory. In attempting to reach you, I nearly fell into the moat that protects your structure.

In my trance, I didn't realize you had not drawn me a bridge. I was not the one you wished to uncover your treasure. You crumpled my heart like a sheet of paper, threw it into the moat, but my mind was still shackled to you.

In my thinking, I realized that I cannot help you. I cannot tear down your walls if you disarm me. So I have decided to let my heart wander away in the water, break the ties I have to you, and keep the love I cannot give away.

I cannot care for you if you do not want me to. I cannot go against what you wish, and what you wish is for the touch of another to ease you into letting down your guard. You wish that someone finds you remarkable, but that someone must not be me.

I walk away from your treasure and hope that one day, you will lower your bridge and let someone pick away at your walls. If that person does not exist, if no one again finds you and your hidden treasure remarkable, then remember that my torn heart still floats in the water you almost let consume me.

If you would let me care for you, I could retrieve it. I could swim across the thrashing moat, speak to you through the hardened walls you've built. I could hope that this time, you would listen to my voice.

For now, I leave you.

Sincerely,

Me

I am surrounded by the beautiful -
By sweet smiles and soft laughs,
By boys and girls who love each other
And could love me if I stepped into
Their Circle

But I can't step in.

I am trapped on the outskirts,
Close enough that I know what I'm missing
But too far to feel what they feel.
Some stragglers creep to the corners of the Circle
And try to speak to me

But I can't respond.

I want to be with the people who know
That others mean something.
I want to be with the beautiful people,
And feel warmth in my ties to others.
I want them to grab me and pull me in

But I can't let them try.

I think there is a reason I am Outside of the Circle.
If I overcame the barrier of my own refusal
I would bring ugliness to the beautiful.
I would pollute the hearts of those who love
By my own which cannot care.

I searched for you between the cracks of dawn and dusk,
riding the river streams, flying through the clouds,
scaling the daunting mountains,
hoping to catch a glimpse of you
-- hoping you would catch a glimpse of me.

I surfed the wind into coffee shops, bars, house parties
and felt myself falling
into the arms of beautiful and treacherous men
with heartbeats that slowed down
when the music of the night faded into the morning.

I searched for you within ageing class photos,
within high school memories of crooked smirks and cologne
of boys whose bodies I've dreamt of knowing
but never reached my grasp out to
in fear that they wouldn't hold on.

I searched for love in the bounties of nature and time,
in what could have been and what was,
in who he is and who he could be,
but never have I searched for love where it should be brightest:
within the hollows of my lonely self.

my head's a balloon
one blow away from bursting.
please don't hit me, babe.

The black rain
beats against my numbing skin.
It feels of frostbite with no venom,
of glass with no rough edges.

It feels of days spent in front of my plate of food
three years ago
where I could taste the metallic flavour of a nuzzle
and my own blood.

It feels of the days spent in my room
two years ago
where the bedsheets would call my name and reach for me
as soon as I kissed them good-bye.

It feels of the days spent on the bus
one year ago
where I watched the passing twinkling streets
and wished for a car to come and claim me.

It feels of the days of hollowness
these days
where I realize I have not found cover from the rain.
I have only stopped feeling it drench me in pitch black.

Men I don’t love
Send me emails telling me that they care about people like me.
They say,
I am committed to helping people achieve their dreams by providing the right support. I want to thank you for your interest in utilizing this opportunity.

The boy I know
Sends me a message saying he saw potential in us.
He writes,
I wanted to help you become better. And when you spoke to me that first day, I thought that maybe we could become something greater than we are now. Together.

Men that know me
Send me emails saying that they liked learning what’s in my head.  
They say,
I recognize the time and effort you put into this and truly appreciate that you shared your thoughts and ideas with me.

The boy that doesn’t love me
Sends me a message saying he knows what he meant to me.
He writes,
I know how hard you tried to make this work. I think you’re amazing, how you always give your all into everything. How you gave your all to me.

Men I don’t know
Send me copy-paste emails that I have memorized.
They say,
There was an outstanding selection of applicants this year and the competition was intense. I regret to inform you that you were not selected to receive an award.

The boy I love
Sends me a message saying what Men I Don’t Know couldn’t.
He writes,
*It’s just that this isn’t what I’m looking for.
You’re not who I am looking for.

I am the lost hum of dawn in a bachelor's room
Who lies awake with tired eyes
I am his calm and faltering discontent
That blooms with the watering of his hidden cries

I am the spots he overlooks in the mirror
Made by the fists of his hands that never clean
I am the river he steps over on his kitchen floor
Spilt by a bottle he used to drink away his dreams

I am the collared shirt at the back of his closet
That his mother gifted him when he went away.
I am the tag on the shirt and the noose around his neck
Waiting for him to admit he is not okay.

When the pressure builds on your shoulders
And you’re on the verge of breaking
Let me be your first call
To stop your voice from shaking

When the nights are achingly short
And the days seem to drag on
Know that I’ll listen to all of your worries
Until the crack of dawn

When you find your life is hostile
And the world is harsh and cold
Remember that you are fragile when alone
But together we can be bold

When these days are long passed
And our memories become foggy and strained
I hope you’ll remember your friend in high school
That cared for you when it rained

When we grow old and tired
And our days are filled with regret
We’ll look back at these high school years
And friends we hope we won’t forget

I’ll be glad I had thanked you then
For shielding me from the eternal storm
And wish that we'll meet in sunlight soon
Where we are not our thorns

On evenings when my blood runs thin
But my spirit aches for release,
I pull out my pen and paper
And begin to write
The words I cannot bring myself to say

My hand does not move
As the paper beneath it
Grows damp under my ducked head.

I am not a poet, I think.
Who is a poet other than one who captures
emotions inside words?
I am not a poet, I think,
Because emotion does not drive my pen.

I am a translator.
I translate regret into tears,
And the tears smudge the empty words I wrote in ink
To paint a portrait
Of myself:
the one who tried to feel but couldn't.

he scraped his knee once,
when he was young,
and began to weep as
his blood trickled onto the sidewalk

his mother cleaned him up,
rested his head upon her ever-bruised shoulder,
stroked his hair,
and sang

     hush little baby,
     don't you cry
     it'll all hurt much less
     when you die

she scraped her knee once,
when she grew old,
and began to cry as
her blood trickled onto the floor boards

her son cleaned it up,
rested her head on his sturdy shoulder
stroked her hair,
and sang

     *hush now mama,
     don't you weep
     he's long gone now so
     you can sleep

When you'd come to my window while the world was asleep and whisper into my ear, "You're beautiful,"  I believed you.

I don't think I was, though. I don't think I'll ever be.

I think your magic momentarily blinded me from seeing my own distorted reflection.

I'm ugly. I'm twisted. But that's okay. We all are.

We are all desire and desperation held together with illusive morals.

I know now that your whispers were that of lovely lies.

I was not beautiful and you knew it. I am not beautiful and you love it.

My name is my submission to male dominance
     I am somebody's daughter,
     somebody's wife.
I willingly call myself so
     It's because I love my father
     I love my husband
And I am honoured to be called
In his name
Usually

But sometimes
When a ray of anger rushes into my heart
By the feminine idea of self-respect
I wonder
     if my father loves me, why is his love trumping of my mother who bore me inside her body for months of restless ease?
     if my husband loves me, why has he never consider calling himself Mr. Mine, where he my husband and I his wife?

But I tuck these thoughts away
They are too balancing of power, too simply different.
I mustn't let the patriarchy hear, or I will dishonour my worth
As a woman.

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

heaven is simply a place on earth
and hell is the magma
we'll eventually all fall into

the ground is cracking
and it's not long
until it splits underneath us

our world is breaking apart
from our preoccupied actions
of violence and hatred

while we search to gain
money, power, glory and purpose
we actively lose our minds

this heavenly place is the first world,
full of ease and ignorant bliss
and the fire of the third world is from our firearms

they do not suffer so we don't have
they suffer because we let them
and so the fire blazes on

our craze helps mute their cries
and the sounds of the splitting ground
as the hell-bound rush up to engulf our sins along with us

Today
A child of nature walked out under the bare sky
for the first time since she broke

The Sky,
So joyed to be able to see her beauty,
began to weep a wondrous rain storm

But
The girl thought The Sky was upset
and hid back under car hoods and roofs once again

Its Tears
Flooded the world as The Sky wept harder,
wondering when its kin would return

The girl,
So beautiful that she was comparable to the sky,
would hide away until she would be fixed

Next spring,
She would try to be a part of nature again
but this spring she must heal before she can blossom

these days feel like the soap bar
my mother used to lather all over me
as she bathed me in her
parents' home

they're soft and cleansing
to the point where I feel refreshed
and pure
and new

but as she cleaned over my chest
where my small heart beat
she dropped the soap bar
and it disappeared into the cloudy waters

soon these days will slip away
just as the bar did
and the purity and ease will wash away
to expose the filth i've hidden within myself

Sometimes
I feel as if I embody the universe
And that I have the strength of the big bang within me.
It seems tirelessly eternal
To be forever found within the depths of music and art,
Dancing in the feeling of living.

Sometimes
I feel as if the universe embodies me
And that its fragility is the same as that of my body.
It seems achingly temporary
To be forever lost in the shallows of yesterday, today and tomorrow,
Fading into the pool of time.

Some times
I wonder if I am temporary
Because I will disintegrate so easily and so soon.
It seems eerily lonesome,
To have my existence and experiences buried with me
Decaying with the forgotten dead.

Sometimes,
I wonder if I am eternal
Because my bones will become part of the earth.
It seems pleasantly wholesome
To have my being preserved within something greater,
Giving way to new life.

Other times
I fret to feel or wonder at all
From concern that I may crawl too far into the unanswerable.
It is covertly treacherous
To hover around the realm of realizing human importance,
Falling into a spiral of maddening uncertainty.

Within the lonely tunnels of the underground
lurk soft honeysuckle smiles.
These young hopefuls are surrounded by darkness
but in each one, there is a hidden light.

For some, this light is an idea.
For others, a burning passion waiting to be exploited.
But for a select few, this light is their whole self
- their being is a treasure yet to be released into the world.

He is the first light that shone so wildly,
I could see it even from within his mind.
He is dipped in talent and purity,
unseen in the higher, filthier realm.

One day, these hopefuls will surface from the underground.
And he will be the first spark of this fire
that illuminates our hopeless world
with the eternal flame of art.

As my Bright Hopeful shines above
I will remain in the dark underground
where my light has long since dimmed out.
And i will wonder if he remembers the match that lit him.

Sweet smiles lined with lip gloss
tell the most articulate lies.
These girls have learned to deceive the weak
using their soft voices as a protective disguise.

They're trained to think it's easier to inflict pain
rather than to live in it themselves.
So they set up walls incapable of being breached
and in this womanmade pit of loneliness, they fell.

I always saw through their false lashes
and into their coffee-black tainted souls.
But it wasn't until I met the all-star actress
that on my heart, my mind lost its hold.

She became my treasure box where I stored
my secrets and stories for her to keep them safe.
Yet her snake-like tongue repeated all I invested
into building a world filled with my own self-hate.

Now, I miss her lip gloss smile
but no doubt her smile had always been a sneer.
These two-faced girls will hypnotize  you into believing
their soft-spoken lies are all you wish to hear.

You are you.
You care about the little things;
About money and status,
About love and power.
You care about right now.
And about nothing more
     But there is so much more to see.

Take a step back
Now you are human.
Your place in society is precious.
You, just as everyone else, are worth something .
You care about justice,
About the state of your world
And it hurts you
     But you know you suffer less than others.

Take another step back
You are a body.
Your presence is replaceable and unfelt.
Your days are spent seeking pleasure and pain.
You live only to feel alive
Knowing that you’ll soon be dust blowing in the wind
And it makes you feel temporary
     But you last longer than you know.

On your last step back
You are a soul.
You feel no pain nor pity- nothing at all
You live in sickly silent peace
As you float aimlessly through time.
You are a piece of the universe
Hoping that the clocks will stop some day
And you will be called to rest
     But your piece in this universe will never die.

You are so much more than your shell.
You are the past, the present and the future
Embodied in a distracted human being.
You are every fibre of the universe that has created you.
You are eternal yet temporary
And it’s confusingly simple
     But you won’t realize your worth unless you *step back.

She’s not worth your tears

They’re more than sad salt water
They are the raw symbolism of your most vulnerable state

Don’t show that to someone who will abuse it, darling.
Don’t show them to her.

Stress has carved its scars on your forehead.
Joy has softened the edges of your eyes.
You wanted beauty, but you got wisdom instead.
To you, the years have not been kind

When I hurt I feel alive
To feel nothing at all is a desire to die

she is not afraid to love, she is afraid of being loved. she is afraid of him putting all his faith in her, just so she can break down, as she does so often, and shatter a bond not found in anyone else. she is afraid to see him cry and to tear the heart he so willingly exposes.

when he needs her, she is there. she uses that time to help him just as she does to help herself. as they speak, she tries to memorize the sound of his rumbling voice. her words are soft with him but never so soft as for him to fall into a slumber and never desire to wake up. she wants him to find a replaceable solace within her presence.

she loves him silently, cares for him without pay. she acts like she doesn't need his money when she aches for it, as we all do. eventually her heart will break from a lack of reciprocity. she knows this, yet she has set her path onto love-bound self-destruction. as long as he doesn't love her, she can keeping loving him. such is the life of the volatile.

my existence is spent
pondering over life
as if it is only thought of
but never lived

I do not long for what once was
I do not dream of what could be
I only think about what could have been
I know these regrets will be the end of me

every night, before I let my mind rest
     I slip off my clothes
     and indulge my raw, naked self
in a bath of memories.

I let the harsh water
     trickle over every inch of me,
     until it reaches my chest
and fills my heart with frost.

     I try to scrub the guilt
off my skin,
     I try to lather the regret
out of my hair,
     and to ignore the feeling of the memories
hovering over my femininity
    
until I can't take it
                                       anymore.

so I drain the water out of my tub
     and the memories out of my mind
     and i slip on my robes
     and try to stop thinking
for a while, as I sleep.

but tonight*, when I pool in the water
    and it trickles all over me
    my heart is not filled with frost
it is filled with rigged ice.

i am filthy,
     the guilt does not wash away
     the regret still clings to me.

and as I try to breathe
     I want to ignore the memories
     that flood my femininity
     but they make their way up
and into my body
and into my mind.

today, I can't ignore it
          it's all too much to bear
and I can't take it
                               anymore

so I slip into the water
     and it suddenly becomes warm
     and washes away my clouded thoughts

I am flooded with a new feeling
     of pooling red peace
     as I sink under
and try to *stop thinking, as I rest

and hope to never wake up
                                                  and have to think again.

I take my final guilty breath.

I’ve never been so alone since last October
When you thought six feet under  was better than being with me
It’s never been so hard trying to stay sober
But what is reality when you’re all I can see?

Darling, we had the world but you chose to get swallowed
And left me up here with the an unbearable curse
I’m followed by the remains of your lost shadow
It never lets me forget how much I can hurt

In the middle of every night, I feel your weight beside me
Drooping down the bed and creaking the wooden floors
But when I turn to look, the room is but empty
And I know your ghost is waiting by the door

Your memory is haunting and I have been restless
The feeling of your presence is still alive
And although I can’t see you, I know they exist
Your ghost will be the last thing I feel tonight

speak up darling, you've got a beautiful voice.
speak of the worlds inside your head.
tell me about the poems you wrote when you were young,
tell me off all the nights you haven't slept.

you sit away quietly, with your head in the clouds.
you're much too far, can I pull you down?
your voice is my reality, it never fails to remind me
that there are mysteries in the world and I can't wait until yours find me.

The proudest of men that walk the earth
Have been doused in glory since the day of their births
They chase after those who've run away
Speak when there is not a word to say

And their greatest endeavor is to convert the innocent
Hungry for the women striking young and brilliant
Unbelieving of a lady's independence
Sure that all women crave their presence

Like rabid dogs, the proud men search
For those to quench their undying thirst
To be loved and accepted of men of the heart
But these men only search in the emptiness of dark

How can they deny the truth in their faces?
They imbalance the world and its natural paces
No one can love an arrogant, proud man
But they search and search, yet they never understand

That love is for those who are willing to fail

Some people like summertime.
They like loud parties with loud people
They love and live for the sun
For golden-brown tans and expensive sunglasses
They like the feel of the daytime,
of being alive and happy
They live every moment like it's their last
Never staying in one place too long
After all...
Why stand still when there is a whole world to explore?

So
In other words
Those people are just like
you.

You crave adventure
And the fast-paced world
And Chasing is your profession

The first thing you did
When you came into town
Was chase
Me

And I lead you to something I thought you'd like to see
So that night
As we stood under the stars
You laughed

"It's so quiet."

Had you ever stood so still? Just watched in awe? Not caring about where you'd been or where you were going?

I told you about the perpetual sky
How their light shines for those who look for light in the dark
And your eyes twinkled
To form two new stars themselves

And I smiled

You see
Some people like structure
The like to stay and explore the details
After all...
There would be no world without the little things, now would there?

As I stood there
With you
I asked if you wanted to stay
Even if the chase was over
And your fingers grasped my hand

Your eyes answered for you

the rain slowly paints your face with youth
making you look out of place this night
I can see the sky pressing down on your slim shoulders
you're weak

deny it all you want
I see your body shaking
underneath your torn clothes you've tried your hardest to rip
you're vulnerable

the moonlight makes you glow
it sees you in a different light than the rest of the sky
I know who you really are, not who you pretend to be when the light shines

you are weak and vulnerable in your suffering
but you make the coldest nights beautiful
**you somehow spin my world a different way

I watch the tear leak down your cheek
Escaped from your red rimmed eyes
In my arms I feel you shaking
Trying to so hard to say good-bye

Darling, don't make it ******* yourself
Wasn't it easier to grab your bags and go?
There was no need to tell me you'd be gone
I'd settle for a simple 'I'll see you tomorrow'

I won't believe I've left your heart
Until the day you've completely left mine
Telling me you're leaving doesn't make me believe it
Until you're truly gone and we've run out of time

The sheets on my bed
Like long arms, envelop me
Strangling me to stay
Well, at least I feel something

Can I close my eyes
And hope that I wake up elsewhere
Where the rain shines on the other side of the Earth
Is there someone to help me somewhere?

Can I trust my nightmares
Will be better than reality
Or is this as good as it gets?

I think that's why I believe in God and in heaven
There must be some other land than distress.

Each line on your tiny palm
Engraves a moment of life
The sound of your first cry
The cut from your first fight

My dear, the wrinkles around your eyes
Are not from the gain of age
But from the years of smiling and laughter
They'll continue to pile through even the last stage

The whiteness of your hair
Is not the lost of your beautiful youth
It is the sky and heavens calling for you
Your weightless body is nearing the truth

Once you are gone, my dear
I'll remember not your age, but our times
Your smiles and wrinkles and supple skin
Is all a marker of your climb

Every step you took on this rotting Earth
Kept it one second from being destroyed
So when you can no longer walk and talk
My dear, this heart will be just an empty void

Longing for what once was

Excuse me
For being a little pessimist
But are you forgetting
That everything you do
Since birth until now
Isn't at all
Steps to success
Everything just leads
To the same dark, death