I grew up overnight.
After eons of your name haunting me,
I heard my heart beat—for myself.

It felt like lightning.
My entire body stood still—
but I heard it.

Years of chasing silence
died down
like the mulberry tree
my dad planted.

I grew up overnight.
Conversations with you in my head
disappeared for an hour.
It was symphony.

To someone walking by,
it looked like a girl weeping
at the foothills of God.
To me,
I grew up.

One, Two, Three - Strike
underneath the lies and stories
we both just wanted a hug

I spy on the little girl.
Her hair was filled with flowers,
her eyes, bright as the sun.
She had love to give—
and gave it freely:
to the old man by the sea,
the woman grieving her son,
the butterfly with a broken wing.

I spy on the little girl.
The flowers in her hair have dried,
her eyes now quiet as the night.
She still has love to give.
But the old man drifted with the tide,
the woman lost her mind,
and no one wants what's left.

I spy on the little girl.
I reach through the forest,
step into the clouds.
I will hold her hand.
I still have love to give—
anyway.

You, my darling, see me like no one else.
Every blemish on my face—a work of art.
The way my curls refuse to comply
makes you smile.

You, my darling, hear me like no one else.
All my thoughts are sacred.
All my jokes are funny.
All my woes are real.

You, my darling, fail to hold me.
You just stare when I cry,
look at me with those piercing eyes
when my clothes don’t fit well.

And when the lights are off,
you disappear.

I will see you again in the morning—
if I survive the dark.

I have a notebook dedicated just to you
Every page is blank

A familiar longing haunts me,
for a face I've never seen,
a body I've never held
and a mind I've never known.