I left my arms open for you
When you needed a friend,

I left my heart open for you,
When you needed love
(but didn't give it in return)

But now,
Two years later,
I refuse to leave my mind open
For you to walk through my thoughts
As you please.

As I sit
On a deck chair
In the sun
Outside my childhood home
And let the sun
Leave its mark of beauty
On my skin,
My thoughts flow
Like poetry
And I am happy once again.

I can hear
The delicate chirp
Of birds
And wonder whether
They're saying:
"You should've done this
A long time ago."

I have been
The cause
Of my own tears
For too long.

Like a bulimic
Forcing the contents
Of their stomach out,
I inflicted pain upon myself;
forcing my emotions out
In tears
That streaked my cheek.

Now,
When emotions come in waves
Like nausea
I hold back the hurls
As the tears rise
To the back of my throat.

I will no longer let
My own thoughts
Be the metaphorical finger
Down my throat.

You were told:

"You are tougher
than you think,"
When in fact that is a lie.

You are only as tough
As you think you are,

So think great thoughts,
And be as tough
As you know.

Every time
You close your eyes
To make a wish,
Open them once again
And ask yourself
What you're doing
To make that wish come true.

I knew I loved him
When I realized
I didn't expect anything
From him;
Not even his love.

I see beauty
In the ordinary;
To me
Perfection
Was watching him eat
Leftover birthday cake
On the couch
One Saturday morning.

I fell in love with him,
Not after some grand gesture,
But while watching him
Sing High School Musical songs
While he cooked breakfast.

And with the image
Of you on my mind,
I looked up to the sky
And snow began to fall;
A snowflake
For every time
I thought of you

I guess
I'm just scared
You'll wake up one day
And tell me you don't love me
Anymore

Because if you did
I wouldn't know
Where to put
All this love

Do some conversations
Ever leave you thinking
That angels speak to us
Through the words
Of people we know?

I am staring
At the same sky
I was staring at last year,
Listening to the same birds
I was listening to last year
Waiting for the same sunset
As I wait for this year

But the difference is
Everything seemed so empty
Last year
Because I didn't know you

I've always had
A special connection
With writing;
I've never actively
Had to search for
The right words,
They've always just
Come to me
Like bees drawn to nectar,
To produce the sweetest honey

They told me
It was as if
Life loved me;

But I told them
That life is an unfaithful lover;
It only cares for you
When you are at your happiest
And seems to put you down
At your worst.

The secret
Is to love life
Even through the times
When the love seems unrequited.

My blessings
Almost always
Come in the form
Of people,

And I'm in awe
Of all the blessings
I have yet to meet.

And the sun
Kept shining down
In waves,
Warming my skin
With its brilliant glow
And then suddenly
Disappearing behind a cloud
Only to leave
My body aching
For its warmth.

Sometimes I wish
The sun would go away
Instead of coaxing me
Into believing it would stay.

Sometimes I think
The sun is you

You tell me
You've been doubting
Whether I'm in love with you,
And I'm afraid my answer
Isn't as easy as
"one, two.."

One divided by two
Always equals a half,
Right?
Teachers told us that
"If Sally cuts an orange
In half
She's left
With two equal halves
Of a whole."

But love
Doesn't work
That way-
Comparing love and oranges
Is like comparing
Apples and pears,
if you will.
I bet Sally never tried
To cut a  heart in two?

Another wise teacher
Once told me
That between two people
"One always loves the other more"

But isn't it
odd
How love is never
even?

And the child inside me,
That still sees the good
In the world,
Refuses to believe
That cupid only carries around
Half as many arrows
As there are lovers.

And it's just not fair
That you
Know the value of
x
That I've been trying
to solve
Since my heart
was last broken.
Boy, you could be my answer-
I just haven't figured out the question.

It's all just a numbers game-
messing with my mind-
So for now
I'll just count my blessings
while trying to make things add up:

You see,
You take my love

Add 2000km,
7 months
and a 1000 stories
We'll have to tell each other-

and at the end of the equation,
my love is still the common factor.

I think
you were drawn
to me
by the way I could
heal you;
unlike the pills
that just made you
feel nothing.

I think I love you
because of the way
you love me.

And it breaks my heart
That I can never love you
To the depths
That you love me.

They tell me
Something about me is glowing
These days:
They want to know
If I'm working hard
To polish myself
So the world can see my shine,
Or if the light comes from within?

It's neither;
I tell them.
It's so easy being happy
When you're a mirror
Reflecting the glimmering
Beauty of our world.
You just first have to see it.

My biggest flaw
Is feeling in waves
Of other people's
Emotions

Connecting to someone
Is almost electrifying:
When you first meet them,
You do not notice
The subtle charge building up
In the small things they say
Until their scattered words
Connect to the open wires of your soul.
And with a sudden electric impulse,
You see them in a brand new light.

Oh how beautiful it is
To really get to know someone.

With my head pressed on your chest
I listen to your breathing;
The rhythm of each breath
In harmony
With the pulse of each heartbeat
Like the lyrics of my favorite song.

Slowly waves of sleep
Wash over me
And the crests of my inhalations
Fall perfectly in tune
With the troughs of your exhalations,
And we drift off into different worlds
Together.

The end of all happiness
Comes from
Too much time to think

I hope your dreams
Grow into rose gardens
And taste as sweet as sugar

So you can wake up and smell the roses

And stir some of that sugar into your morning coffee

Our lives are about meeting people;
Some of whom are similar to us,
And others who are different
In almost every way.

We fall in love
With parts of these people,
And we wish we'd forget
Some parts of others;

But each fragment
Of each person
Teaches us something about ourselves.

And slowly,
Subtly
And poignantly;
We begin to understand ourselves
Through others.

My favorite thing to do
When I miss you
Is to climb to the top
Of my roof at sunset
Where we used to sit
And be engulfed in the beauty of
The never ending sky;

And just as your favorite song
Begins to play
And the scent of you lingers
In the air,
For a brief moment
The sky turns a mixture
Of the most beautiful pink and orange
Which then suddenly disappears.

And it is almost
As if the sky is telling me
That all beauty is ephemeral.

I wonder
whether it's you I miss
or the feeling of being loved.

If the purpose of life is to make art;
I suppose,
All true artists go insane
Baring the entirety of life
On their shoulders.

I wonder
how many words
have sat on the tip
of your tongue,
waiting to take the plunge
into the world outside,
but have held back
in fear of the fall-

and I wonder
how different your life would be
had those words been set free.

He told me
I was like a sunflower:
and I'm rather touched
that he didn't compare
me to a rose,
deceptive in its beauty,
but rather a flower
that constantly
follows the path
of the sun.

I love you more
than all the other people I love
put together.
And that is a lot of love.

It is very rare
To live in the moment.

At any given time
We find ourselves
Thinking about the past
Or planning for the future.

To live in the moment
Is the most beautiful
Feeling;
Because you remember
Every sound,
Smell and touch,
And have memorised
Every crease on your lover's palm.

And for days,
Months
And even years,
You will live in that moment

Until time drains the colour
Of that memory,
Like a used cloth,
And you have to find
Another moment to live in.

I am constantly wondering
Whether it is better
To live without doubt
Or to question everything
Around me

To be a child
is to see,
within a plastic bead,
the beauty of a pearl.

If you do not feel,
at least once a day,
as if you are living alone
in a small immaculate bubble
where the outside world doesn't matter,
snuggled up with a book,
or curling the grass between your toes
then
you are not doing it right.

I'm starting
to see
through people
who make
their lives
look pretty

I love gloomy days
Because without the sun
To tell us when it's noon,
Dusk or dawn,
The day blends into one
Long continuum
Where any time of the day
Could be any other
And humanity gets a taste
Of the infinite.

When he was younger,
He used to feel overwhelmed
By the endless possibilities
That awaited him,
To the point that it kept him up
At night.

But now
He cannot sleep
Because his life's regrets
Weigh heavily
Upon his thoughts.

Being a writer
Is not a part-time job,
Like being a nurse
Or a teacher:
Where clocking in
And out
Is as simple
As lifting and putting down
A pen.

No,
Writers have words
Flowing though their veins;
Poignant thoughts and emotions
Shape and reshape themselves
Into poems in the writer's mind
Almost by instinct.

But
Do not be fooled:
The writer's world
Is no paradise:
Thoughts tug at our brains
In the middle of the night,
Like a child pulling
At its mother's coat
Beckoning us to the page
Where finally we free the thoughts
That have been held captive.

And finally with sleepy,
Satisfied eyes,
We place the final fullstop
On our latest masterpiece
.

We could learn
A lot from children:
They seem to find
Happiness in almost anything,
Instead of searching
For it endlessly.  

Imagine
How happy
The world would be,
If we were all just
Children for the day.

Just imagine.

I have insomnia
Because when the rest
Of the world is quiet,
I can hear myself think.

If only love
Lasted as long as
These fragile cases
We call bodies.

Instead,
Like simmering water
It reaches boiling point;
Slowly evaporating,
Leaving a cool, bare surface.

Money
Doesn't make
The world go around;
Empathy does.

In an ideal world,
Life and love
Are not ephemeral.

My mother treats sick people for a living;
very sick people with cancer.

She is the strongest person I know;
my rock in stroms of tears and heartbreak.

One day I heard her sobbing in her room
when she thought no one was listening:

A 14 year old boy had died in her care,
and I watched as she drowned in her own helplessness.

So I said nothing and wrapped my arms around my sobbing mother
and let her be a child for once
in the arms of her own daughter.

There is still so much to see;
do not feel blinded.
There is still so much to do;
do not say you're bored.
There are still so many strangers to meet;
do not feel alone.
There are still so many choices to make;
do not feel trapped.
There is still so much to feel;
do not feel sad.

There are still so many places to go;
do not stop now.

Your kisses
Leave my lips
Stinging.

Oh how delectably
Electric.

I didn't know
I was your puppet
On a string:

You tossed me
Turned me
Made me swoon
To your every word.

I didn't know
I was your puppet
Until you cut
The strings,
And I fell face-down
Into what I thought
Was love.

I could have sworn
your eyes were hazel
when you told me
you loved me,

I could have sworn
they were never this shade
of rich mahogany-
but maybe they have lost
their intircate flecks of green
like the leaves do in Autumn.

I suppose winter was inevitable.

Happiness
is the ability
to marvel
at human individuality,

but what most people
don't see
is that by trying
to be what we are not,

we are denying
someone that
happiness.

All I want
is for you
to notice something
beautiful about me:

Whether it be
a freckle
on my neck,

the white line
on my nose
after I smile,

or the way
I string a bunch
of words together
in a poem.