I found myself almost struggling
to keep my head under water
I dont want to breathe
but the thought of my mother crying
pulls me up like a force of gravity

I emerge above the surface
the air poisoning my lungs
i want so bad the sweet embrace of water
to blank out for a bit
but my sweet mother, like a force of gravity

She chain smoked
of course, it was the 80s.
She hated herself
of course, the girl is fat
She felt her face sting the entire night
of course, he had a very long day.
She believed in herself
of course, she was foolish

and she continued on,
letting everybody make excuses
so she chain smoked.

I cannot explain it
but the way people chatter
makes me want to die

So I put on my noise muffling headphones
and then the world turned quiet
and my head is straight again

and my heart stopped pounding
and my hair sat flat on my arms again
peaceful, but I can't help but wonder


what is it like? the human experience?
to hear and laugh and shout
willingly and pleasantly?

she swayed lightly alone
her hands holding onto the fragile air
feet grazing the ground
gravity preciously holding onto her
after all, reality is subjective plus perspective.

she dance a hopeless dance
on top of shimmering watersnacks
her heart as dry as dust
those praying hands prayed no more
for she could speak with god

just by closing her eyes

we sometimes forget
from i guess a rightful fear

that growing old
is a privilege.

There are bitter goodbyes
that will have hellos again
I am lucky enough to share that with you
when some peoples goodbyes are forever.
So for that,
I suppose, I am grateful.

There is something so sobering
watching her ****** take her life
not in the act but in labor

while a man who never felt the sting of labor
sits on TV
calls her a "host body".

She will never see eighth grade.

I love you so much
my dear
it feels like my heart beats outside my body

and its so scary to be vulnerable
but you have always belonged to me
you just needed to find your way home.

The lark sings a pretty song
I lived to hear it
And I am grateful always

For such a little blessing
That I have only scratched the surface of this world
And already feel so overwhelmed

There is something cosmically profound
To be connected to someone across somewhere
With an invisible thread
And a string of words
The reader and the writer, both behind screens.

there were days
Where days ended with the sun
And yet now
Time exist only not as a limit
But merely informational.

Your love shows me the magic
That we brush aside daily
When we should be in awe of
That i am lucky I exist in a time where
You are one call away

we are all shouting
into the abyss
hoping someone would shout back
and we do find them

and when we do
we hold on tight.

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"

She wouldn't be remember
as a quiet girl

but thats alright
those people still--
remembered her.

You said you were made of the ocean
that salt water ran in your blood

thats why when we said goodbye
your lips tasted so salty.

I couldn't stop touching her
Lady Universe and her ever soft kisses like comets
The dance floor was so dark
and she shined so bright
She put her hand on my hair and said
you're beautiful baby girl
I could feel the beat on my floating feet
blood boiling
oh!
imagine if our lips touched I said
she laughed with a wicked flick of hair,
rivers and the earth spawned from just that
Lady Universe
she laughs at me.

The even breathe in the mist of nights
your chest steadily rising up and down
your warmth against my skin
like an adventurist
I wander into depth i could not fathom
fearful yet serene
serendipity i suppose
to wander right into your arms

we pass on trauma like the barrier reef
with each children the deeper the knot
they will pass on their faults too
to children of their own.
and it might break your mortal pride
to tell you this

but your children do not carry your hopes and dreams
they carry your trauma and pain
until they can have their own to carry theirs.

it HURTS
when his eyes no longer watch my body
he barely lifted his head
only to mumble a few words
and back to whatever he was doing it

it HURTS
when I realize he is familiar with me
it no longer interest him
you can only love a game so much
until you grow bored of it, right?

it HURTS
when his eyes are fixated onto the TV
even when i present my most vulnerable form

it HURTS
when he lies to me
and says I still make him feel things.

I am not blind.

He says I love you a lot
I believe them sometimes
I laugh them off sometimes

But I know he really does love me.
Because at night when he is fast asleep
he still searches for my body with his hand
Because at the dinner table
he watches me eat and gets giddy when I make a mess
Because when I reach for his hand
he already met me half way
Because when I feel sick
a hot bath is being drawn in the other room

So it is not that I doubt him
But I will laugh sometimes
our apartment filled with tiny grand gestures of love.

Like a crowded hallway
I squeeze by people who don't see me
there you are
holding my cheek to your hand
every planted kiss
I feel visible.

Its been years
since I've written something authentic to myself
When i was 15, writing was my hiding place

but now, i find myself
struggling to elevate my work
but the more i try, the worse they are

pretentious! tedious! full of a pious girl's empty words.
I felt pressured to change the world,
to write something remembered by

but today i awoke.
fully, and tired of writing words i barely mean.
in a society driven by authenticity and originality

i am, authentically me--insignificant, but fun to read at least!

I just wanted the world to see me
but I dont, because even I can't see myself
I look into the crystal glass
and couldn't see a future
just bursted dreams and a wicked fortune teller
she tells me things so horrible
they can only be lies

and so I lie alone on the stone pedestal
my skin bronzing under the sun
my bones toughening up with rain

I just wanted the world to see

You keep me alive
my muse
the beauty i thank you for
the shaky room that rocks my core
the same way you did me
under the pure moonlight

I fall under your spell
with all my glee
a fly to a spider web

Live within me
your white spirit
my deep colors
painting our paradise in the room
of our tiny closet apartment

Bleed my gentle eyes
for the heaven i should not have seen
adam and eve
eating the forbidden apple
burning in a parasite of the brave

my lover had statues
beautiful pale ivory skin
just like his.

he rarely took me seriously
said i was a child
under his great art, i succumb

I will always, faithfully,
be his muse
under his light, i flourish.

intertwined, we awoke burnt out in ash.

How amazing it was to be able to weep
for something so wonderful like colors
To be glad I was once  not color blind
to the beauty the world had to offer
and was graced with an angel from heaven

though now we must part
and I weep of sorrow tears
I will keep my blessings

that I possessed such joy once
that cut so deep I cry tears of pearl
when I no longer possess it.

Be still, my glass bones
the ship will carry your soul full of sins
the times you shot down the albatross

Perhaps Life in Death will not torture you
perhaps she will lose her gambling
she will give you to death himself

Perhaps you will use the last bit of color
to leave a fade mark in the world
the potential you could have had

but you were always a gambler
when you win you feel so little
when you lose you leave no mark.

When you met a person
who never sings a note in key
or never complains about walking the dog in the rain
who hates the taste of coffee
but kisses you after a cup of americano anyways
who walks with you forever
even if his feet are Sore

when you met someone who warms your world
you can never go back to the nights again
it is a privilege to lay with the sun.

When you were young
I love you was a learned response.
There were shallow meanings to it
Something you quickly toss at your parents
When you are running late to school

Then you move out
And you see their backs hunched over.
They tell you the same stories over and over
And you say i love you with meaning this time
Because they may not have much time

When you were in high school
You said I love you to her
As a correct response, not as a genuine one.
There was again no real meaning
Just three words to her underpants.

Then you got married
And you see her graduating college
A gleam in her eyes, that spark of intelligence
You said I love you with meaning
Because she swept you off your feet.

So I guess,
love is inside us.
But we never learn to really say it first
We aren’t even aware
Until it comes on, like a lightbulb.

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.

they were vitamin gummies before
my mother would be so proud
it turned into something ugly
and I even used to laugh
but now I stare blankly at a wall
feeling nothing and everything all at once
luckily tho
I can't think straight.
Luckily.
Who knows what ill think if im sober?

At the end of the world
you will find that
those with money
do live happier.

At least,
they would be alive.

I love the little brick cottage
The one you held my hand to show me
In the middle of the woods
How you stared into my eyes
Promising me we’d move in one day

I love the broken stove
The one you apologized for
When we moved in as teenagers
Without a penny to our name
But we spend our days  exploring the woods

I love the wallpaper
The gross yellow you’d always laugh at
How you say you hated it but never took down
Because it makes me laugh
When you wrinkle your nose at it.

I hope you have fun
dancing alone in a bright blue light
I hope youre happy
with such little pretense

but pretense is pretense
no matter the quantity

I could let it hurt me
And i did
Lost in your innocent blue eyes

I could drown in your stories
Of raging seas
How you yearn for something that wasn’t me

I knew you’d leave
No harbor was your home
But hope is a poor sinner’s burden.

I apologize for my bluntness
The ruthlessness of my words
But i think you need to know

That you did not nurture me
The way you think you’re the savior
But slowly instead, you are the poison

You wish to save me from.

There is something strange '
about the architecture of his soul
how he maneuvers through my life
exploring my weakness
and I let him.
I am shot down
Surrender with my hands up
In love
like a fly attracted to the light of his eyes.

When he left,
my heart moved with him
How funny
I thought blue was the color of sadness
but blue is the color of a new beginning

I dipped my body into the ocean
5 seconds of waves washing over me
I am new, I am fresh.

The slow dance was so relaxed
so easy
so real my feet float

i miss your gentle step dear
come home soon

She fell in love with the wind
she knows she shouldn't
but god HER hair is so shiny
and HER breath smells like the forest
It is a revelation for her
but just another story for HER

Years later, she will tell the breeze
of the wind that changed her life
and the wind will continue flowing along
sweeping the girls off their feet
but only for a brief moment
no one owns the wind.

In my black ink your love shines bright
That the same fire that build our warmth

Burns a fiery death.

I wish you knew the way I love you
then maybe you'd wear sunscreen a bit more
then maybe you'd drive slower just a bit
and eat more vegetables once in a while.
I wish you knew the way I hate myself
then maybe you'd think twice before glancing away
then maybe you'd try not to raise your voice
and be here with me always and forever

They love you in ways they think is selfless
And at least in their mind its true
But they ******* up
And give you their insecurities
To create new ones to pass on

Sometimes they try their best
Sometimes they try
But at the end
They will hand you their heirlooms
And then you will be have the mend the broken glass.

i dont know what happened
when his eyes didn't see me anymore
how quickly he glossed over
joking about my body
Aphrodite fell off her throne.

how i obsess and neglect my body
at the same time
how embarrassed i feel
to see a dull reflection in the mirror as he sees me
a silly girl mistaking herself as Aphrodite

Sometimes I can tell
the Universe is moving without me
Even when I was a child
I saw the moon smile at me
It was running along side me  in the car window
That night the moon appeared outside my window
That's how I know
I will never be alone.
The moon will never let me be.
Sometimes I can tell,
the Universe is moving without me.

The difference between a mother and a lover is
your lover may open scars
but your mother created them

I try so hard to forgive
but the thorns my mother left me
I am still trying to not give to my child

When I look upon her face
I know she tried her best
carrying her own thorns too, bleeding and tired.

And one day,
I might give my child scars too
in ways I do not intend to; believe me, I will feel so sorry.

I hope they will look upon me too
with the same understanding
and gently pull the thorns out.

I have been sleepwalking
since i was fourteen
finding my soul float away
in my body that walked the earth
in a dust of doubt

i wake up in a mist of red sunet
i am free

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.

its  wonderful how
i let you sew yourself onto me
only to pull away my flesh when you want to run.

you have so many fun options
but i only have you
how unhealthy, isn't it?

so when you slice me open again
i run to my poor poetry site
to spill out words i don't even consider poetic anymore

words that my poor readers have to take in
when they should have engulfed you.

Your lips a plump red
The field of poppies like your personality
The sun beams on our faces
As we grin understandably
I wonder when i will be this happy ever again

Under the strum up lights
The gazebo is our little sanctuary
Little Italy has never felt so romantic
Your soft hands on my long hair
I wonder when ill see a beauty this stunning again

The morning that came was peaceful
The smell of fresh lavender
Morning lights hit the window in technicolor
Your eyes are a dark swirl rich French chocolate
I indulge myself in all your sweetest

I wonder if you think of this too
When you see me

He held his life into his hands
rewatching the memories of his life
he knew how to be happy once
and so he searched
in the mist of grey

underneath he found a flower
withering away in a dust of poison
gasp! that must be his happiness!
so he nurtured his weak pedals
till it is strong and grown

When Alan Barker look in the mirror
he not longer see a sorrowful man
with an easy slip of a finger he threw away the flower
it was not his happiness
he just needed to know something would live for him.