You know what
***** so much about
Grief?

It's not the getting-over-it stage
But rather the
I-thought-I-got-over-it stage.

It's when you've tucked them away
So neatly in a convenient crevice,
Thrown those memories so far out to sea
That you're so sure they'd never float back.

That's when it *****.

When the waves of Time
Carry back your secret bottle of forgotten memories
And the messages touch the very shore of your mind.
And you thought it was a treasure map
Or some happy message,
Even a letter for help would've been better.

But when you unscrew that bottle
And read the message.
There it is again,
Months, days, minutes or just

Seconds

After you thought you'd disposed of
This unfortunate treasure:
Grief strikes you,
Ever stronger,
Ever harder and
Ever longer.

Then your little mind will once again
Be flooded by blasted Grief.

I try to leak the emotion
Slowly into the poems, so
I don't drown the reader all at once.
But it always seems to
Gush out, spew out,
Crashing in like a tidal wave.
I tried to write a happy poem,
But I've failed again.
I just hope Melancholy didn't
Swim out too far,
Because He always leads you to me.

I never thought
I would've locked away a flower.

I never thought I would
Trap such a beautiful creature of nature.
The humongous red petals
Stained with water,
Attracting such a wide diversity of insects.

I had always believed that
Gorgeous things should be set free,
So it could live to it's fullest.
Spread out wide in the open.
And so,

I never thought
I would've locked away a flower.

Yet my marvelous mind encaged a
Beautiful beast,
An imperfectly perfect plant.
Locked it away for years and
Hid it so deep in captivity that
I could never have found it
And I would never have found it

Until now.

Years and years and years on,
Since the flower did first bloom,
It's scent has finally found me and
So did Understanding.

The pungent stench that
Reeked from the Rafflesia,
It slowly seeps into the present
Drowning the pretty world with
Pests meant to pollinate it's seed.
The truly gorgeous flowers slowly
Wilt away as

Evil
Ovethrows
Everything.

I once locked up a memory so tight
I never ever found it,
But in the recent days,
It came slowly
Then like a tidal wave:
Crashed down on me.
The shame just filling my heart.
Killing the not even alive.

I never thought
I would've locked up a flower.

But now I wish I'd locked it back up.

Until the age of 10,
I never knew what "****" meant.
Our teacher had used the exact word
Instead of "****** *******" during our
Science lessons (though that part was more *** ed).
I never understood how you could
Just get pregnant and I, until then
Had been so afraid that if a boy kissed me,
Even softly pecking on the cheek,
I would wake up the next morning with
An unwanted newborn baby
Just because the boy kissed me.

Until the age of 10,
I knew there were videos on the internet that were
"Not for my age".
And so I always stayed away from the computer,
The television (okay, maybe not the cartoons)
And even the DVD stores.
That was until I saw him that morning
Lying in that blasted chair,
Eyes glued to the screen.
The plate in my hand dropped when I saw where was his.
I saw my first "not for my age" video.

Until the age of 10,
I never knew what a ***** was.
Sure, I'd seen it in essays:
Putting your hands out to navigate in the dark.
Yeah, I got that meaning, but no —
It's about the other meaning:
Touching someone else's privates for pleasure.

And it's illegal to;
Punishable by the law.
He shouldn't have stripped me and
Touched everything.
Shouldn't have.
Couldn't have.
Did not have the right to.
He shouldn't have groped me.


But I didn't know **** about that
Till I was 10.

Who will protect the protectors?
The ones in the front and in the back,
The ones who risk their lives every day just to
Keep you safe and make sure that you're okay
And so they give up everything they have:
Their lives, their time, heart, energy...
Everything.

Who will defend the defenders?
The ones who build up walls so tall to
Make sure nothing would ever harm you but
In the process, they've completely
Exposed themselves to the elements,
Yet, in a way, have trapped themselves in.

Who will save the saviors?
The ones who've already rescued thousands
But still believe they have the responsibility to
Save another hundred million from
Whatever is coming their way until they
Unfortunately, tire themselves out too much.


But still, they keep
Pushing,
Pressing on,
Persevering till the very end to

Protect the ones they love.

Who will guard the angels when the war wages on?
Who will love them, stay by their side
Till the very end?

Just like they did.