I guess watching him drive away
will never be easy
even if he is going to work
or just getting groceries
a part of me will always say
"he might not come back"

When I was 5, I looked for God in churches.
but I found his face in ivory and gold, stiff as dead.
It is a sin they say
But I look upon his face
his warmth
his words
and there I found a merciful god
letting my wary head fall in a gentle, gentle sleep.

I have my hope
in my little London apartment
in my Tiffany blue robe
what happens when it stops raining?
Will I miss my umbrella and polkadot raincoats?
It doesn't matter.
I have my hope
but today, it rains.

The clouds poured that day
When my mother took me in the church
I kneeled in front of a porcelain Mary
Who glared down in righteousness
So full of herself, i thought.

She should be a figure of strength
A warrior even, made by her virginal status
But you are still porcelain, I snarled
A slight push
And to pieces you go.

In the fear of the Divine
I confessed my sins
Her smile still cold and smirk like
Laughing ay my earthly worries
Dismissing my lonely sorrow.

I looked up again in pain and anger
Smothered by fear and angst
To be met with my mother’s face
Who stood in porcelain
Looking down in righteousness.

I have used several poetry site
but the people here are still the kindest
thank you for being so nice

and for giving an amateur  
a small chance to breathe.

I shouldn't have to reduce myself
into a thin layer of nothing
lesser of me
to be considered worth a look
when I am drifting in the wind

I shouldn't have to rip my body apart
to please a fleeting pair of eyes on the street
when my clothes fall off my body
and my bones break in a crunch
For a number constructed by no one

It shouldn't be this way
but it is
but god I am trying. One bite at a time.

I think sometimes love will hurt
not in the sense of a heartbreak
more so in the worrying
the longing
the moments in between the highs and lows

And sometimes you make it worth it
sometimes you don't.
In the dusk underneath the fading light
I find your face in my palms
hurting willingly, loving deeply, in a bliss made specially for me.