When my eyes are closed
And my cheeks are wet.
My lips will smile softly
As I forfeit all my fears
To the memories between my ears.

The memories of which
Are made from the trails
I paved in foreign countries.
Strong gales of sweet laughter
Sewn into heart songs; my ever after.

-ARI

When did our homes become
tombs?
When did our truths become
lies?
When did our hearts become
stones?
When did our laughs turn to
cries?

When did our men become
gods?
When did our gods become
men?
When did this world become
someone's?
When, oh when, oh when?

This September. It is
going to be very quiet.

I am trying to caress
the mimosa, which
always said,
touch-me-not.

The spontaneous probe
will start the construct in love
of philosophy to mimic
the animal plus
the femineity.

A clock was moving
without hands. Time was up
but legs were amputated.
How will you walk
towards your truth?

the water
thoughts dripping along my face

thoughts

what if i turned up the heat
turned it up until i feel numb
feel my skin burn

what if i put my head under water
and don't breathe until
i get a glimpse
of what it would feel like
to be gone

the bruises on my arms
they hurt
turned the temperature up
didn't even mind the pain
turned it up more
pain streaming through my body
but i don't move
and keep my head under water

what if i just stayed here
keep turning up the heat
because the pain
doesn't hurt as much
as my brain does
and maybe
going numb
would turn my mind off

turned it up more
went and sat down
not knowing whether it's tears
or just water
streaming down my face

my skin turning red
the bruises on my arms don't hurt anymore
now just minding the heat
and not the thoughts in my brain

what if i stayed here forever?
turning it up more
every minute
until i couldn't take it anymore.






then i turned off the water
and grabbed a towel

maybe another day.

she’s smiled from the sidelines,
watching as you waved her away and soared to the sky.
she’s hoped you remember her
as you spread your wings farther,
kissing the wind and touching every cloud.
you come back again,
welcomed by open arms and a girl unmoved.
she’s wondered if you notice
how hard her knees have buckled.

how does she tell you she misses you
without making a scar on your absence?
how can she keep composure as the minutes pass,
broken and jagged
like the word “okay” feels
as it slides down her throat?
how does she use her quiet assurances
to explain she’s still at a loss for words?
how does she express what she needs to
without losing you in such a declaration?

Dreamed of a lover
That can bring me

A world

I didn't think
We would travel the world

While exploring
Our Love