Losing your mother at 22
Realizing she was more to you than yourself
The only saving grace
Excusing itself from dinner early
Forgetting to push in their chair
An empty spot yet to be filled

Maybe death feels like this
Forever without you
The light refusing to enter darkness
A slip of too many tangles
Staring into too much of nowhere
Still wishing you were here

I am nothing more
Than brittle bones
And a frail heart
Praying
For someone
To make me better

Allow me to be found
Between book ends and whiskey bottles
Creating mishaps between the both of us
Dreaming of a chance away from here
Echo the hallow chamber of our bedroom
Finding every lost chance we had at communicating
Ghosts
Hoping someone will take notice
I am here
Just a passing ship in the night

think about how
we see ruins
as beautiful
like the
Acropolis or
the Colosseum
and Pompeii,
though they’ve spent
years and years
breaking,
crumbling,
disintegrating,
until all that’s left
are fragments of what it used to be
but we still see it today
with awe
and admire all of its glory

and i think maybe
it’s the same with people
it’s easy to fall in love with the remains
of something you did not see
fall apart first.

i once read that
there are names for the spaces
in between
body parts,
architectural structures,
musical notes.

names for spaces
as if they are

real
concrete
solid

and not just
gaps
voids
silences

like
buccal vestibule of the maxilla
is a space between the cheek and lateral face

or piscina
is a space in a wall near an altar

and
F A C E are the spaces
in between
the lines of a staff.

spaces with names
because they are part of something.
even if technically they are
"spaces" and not just

hollow
empty
blank

so i think their names suits them well.
because at least you know
what to call them.

but there is also a space
between you and me
it bears no name
and i think

this suits us
just as well.

skins aren’t skins
in this world.

they’re

death threats
inked permanently
on your bones
covering your body
with scratches and stereotypes,
bringing bruises and bullets to your head

and the only way to stay safe
is if the ink is white.

skins are signs
to know which ones
will pay the price
if you close your eyes
you will see the color
to marginalize

warped in a wrapped world
do we even see beyond
what pigment we have
or are we
wrapped around a warped world
where pain is really
skin deep.

isn’t it strange?
we live in a world where
the color of your skin
indicates how people
see you and
the darker it is,
the more invisible
you become.

i wish
we were all
color blind.

i. do everything they want you to. wear clothes that are not too short or not too long. wear shoes that make you look smaller. do not, and i repeat, do not have piercings and tattoos they look ***** on you. After all, you do not own your body.


ii. displace your beliefs and put them all in stacks of paper. shove them all in your mouth and don’t talk unless you’re spoken to. if this is not enough, cut your tongue and sew your mouth shut. always remember: your opinion doesn’t matter. you’re just a girl.


iii. if they stare at you, ignore it. if they call you names and speak to you as if you’re not human. treat it as a compliment. you’re pretty.

iv. never aim for greater things. the worst thing for a woman to have is ambitions.

v. finally, smile and keep those legs open. soon enough, you’ll forget who you ever were. You are worse than nothing—
you are just a girl.

Thank you for staying alive today.
Thank you for waking up
and stretching your branches up to heaven
even though sometimes they’re too weak
to grow and reach further.
Thank you for opening your eyes
even though sometimes
the darkness is more peaceful than the light.
Thank you for deciding to take in oxygen
and never letting out of it,
never holding your breath,
Ready to dive in to the day
Ready to drown,
Ready to fight back the waters.
Thank you for staying here.
Because you matter to me,
to your friends,
to your family,
And that is enough.
You are enough.
Always.
Thank you for being a fighter.
even though sometimes you feel like
nobody notices,
nobody cares,
nobody appreciates,
and that the world is continuously
Stepping on your fingers from holding on.
Thank you for going into the world with bloodied bandages
on your arms and feet
Everyday may be a battlefield
You get wounded.
You feel that you’re weak
But wounds are not your kryptonite.
They can only make you stronger.
Because you know better
I understand that you’re below empty
I understand that you don’t want to do this anymore.
I understand how it feels like when you just want everything to stop.
But the truth is this
Life may not be the most beautiful thing in this world for you right now
but maybe someday you'll understand
that life needs to throw you into the fires,
scorch your skin,
burn your flesh,
for you
to be
reborn.

Ever since you left me
I have been wearing
lovers
like strings of pearls
upon my neck,
one after the other.
pretty pearls
adorning my skin
with their kisses.
They say
“You’re beautiful.”
But I still feel

nothing.