Last night I had a dream that I was finally free,
Free from the burdens, the anxiety, the heartbreaks that changed the person
I now try to burn endlessly in flames.
For a moment, I felt like me,
Whoever that may be,
I felt like someone who is still very much
A stranger to me, and the decisions I’ve made
Maybe this version of conscious I was experiencing
Just hadn’t gone through life fully,
So he was only showing me moments
Of when I’d forgotten I was happy
Either way, I felt a little bit of peace
Inside of this R.E.M sleep,
A feeling I hadn’t felt since I was 17,
Specially, When I was falling deeper and deeper in love with you
Under swaying blue cypress trees
I felt complete…
So, when you left, and I awoken from my dream,
I couldn’t help but to ask everyone around me,
Why? Why would you let this happen to me?
They explained that in order to feel happy,
You must first feel pain, and within that pain, hides the seed of peace,
And once you plant that seed
And nurture it
Watering it, giving light to its body
You begin bloom into the version of yourself
You always dreamt to be…

M.H. John

I’m writing to you from the heart of L.A.
Because my healing process
Just isn’t going the way
I imagined.
I’m having trouble, you see,
With shedding this body, of me,
Because I can still see the imprints of your kisses
And feel the soft dance of your fingertips
Across my skin.
I try to do anything random
To make me happy;
Driving through neighborhoods in Rosemead,
Having my chakras aligned at a random sound bath therapy,
Driving to Long Beach just to write by the sea,
Picking lemons and oranges from the citrus trees
Within my favorite park,
Because when I pour their juices over my broken heart,
The sting brings a feeling, or a memory,
That only you could ignite in me after dark.
Everything I do, I do with the thought of you
And that’s strange for me to admit because
Even after all the California earthquakes you shifted
My grounds to,
And all the pink noise I try to drown thoughts of you out to;
Like driving late at night down Sunset and Vine
While my brother talks to me
About his favorite rapper’s documentary
But I’m only half listening
Because I’m too distracted
About what I’ve just learned about Van Gogh,
He only ever sold one painting in his lifetime
So you can imagine how emotional I get each time
I question why, why I do this
Why I try,
When nobody reads these melancholic thoughts of mine.
However throughout all of this,
There’s one thought that won’t run away from me;
It only talks about how much
I love you

M.H. John

last night while sleeping
beneath the cosmic’s silver rays
a moon flower began blooming
slowly unfurling
the daze my mind is in these days
As fragrant whispers fill the air
I wander through a world of dreams
Where time stands still and all worries cease

I ask myself
“Why can’t life always be this pretty?”

Walking through my moonlit garden
of the rage that waters my inner peace
I am quickly reminded

Of how someone like me
Can only enjoy the beauty of life
And acceptance of reality
In my sleep



-M.H. John

Can you see me
From your bird eye view?
I stay up past three in the morning
Counting the rings of Saturn
While crying to the moon

I try to pray to you

But I get lost searching
In the veins of the sky
Where the colors fade from
Orange to gold to purple to blue
For the perfect star

That could possibly hold you

I got home tonight
Walked in front of the mirror
And undressed

Out of my skin

Leaving my corpse
Lying on the floor
I sit next to it

Opening my eyes

To release the water
That have short-circuit
The wires of my mind

I take a deep breathe
And count to three
As I gaze into the mirrors depths

Reflections of my soul emerge
Skinless and vulnerable
I confront myself
Causing my memory to surge

I don’t recognize this person anymore
Dropping the hard drives into the degausser
Old files displaying
An error occurs
“Are you sure you want to erase memory?”

CTRL+ALT+DELETE

I have finally set myself free
Of the AI who controls my mind

Named:
Victim mentality

i cried this morning
while washing my fruits
my tears mingling with water
fixated on conversating
about my emotions
simply due to the fact
that everything in my garden
was grown by

the love of me

only to be harvest
on a regular tuesday sunny afternoon
by none other

than the hands of you

if i could visit my younger self
i would go back to the day
when the laugh of lions
didn’t scare me away
into a world

i was trying to leave astray

a world that once;

smoked me up whole
making swimming pools
out of my tears
that’d be dusted
off of my cheek
into ashtrays

just for the narcissist’s
around me
to feel at peace
drinking from the sea
of pain they ripped me apart in
because they only knew
what they had bled into me