I'm trying to live life to the fullest
and the meaning is on the crest
As I look at the sun
this fleeting feeling sweeps over me
the horizon will always be on the run
such an unnameable emotion
just out of reach, blowing in the wind
I'm becoming blind,
to what is really happening
I'm trying to harmonize
but instead I'm anathematised
it doesn't matter what time of day
or how I try to contemplate
I'm pushing you further and further away
I don't obligate  
you to stay    
you don't want to be analyzed
or rationalized
you're already leaving me behind
I'm just beginning to understand
self, mind, can you discern?
you radiate such command,
your meaning causes this yearning
I'm tantalized
and hypnotized  
then you start to depart
before I can truly see,
hear this plea  
to grant my desire to comprehend,
you're slowly slipping out of my grasp,
before I can write this fleeting,
fleeting thought down
you've already flown,
                                         flown far,
                                                            ­  far away............
                                                ­                                        ...............

What’s in a name?
It is what turns heads
It can cause a quiver in your body
Or a smile to curl onto your lips.
A name can be tarnished
Or reborn.
It can make you stand out from the crowd
Or join the masses.
It is more than what society deems
A socially acceptable form of
Introduction.

So let me introduce myself:
I used to feel my name in harsh syllables
Rooted in the language of my people’s history.
MAR or MIR meant bitter.
Like having the wrong taste in your mouth
Reminding me of MARor –
Eaten on Passover to remember how burdensome,
Difficult and bitter the Jews’ slavery in Egypt was.
IAM (YAM) – ocean.
Tumultuous, never still.
Always swirling and scaring children out of it.
MIRIAM – my Hebrew name.
Bitter sea.
I grew into that name resentfully.
I reacted when I was called that by fellow classmates,
For what else could I do?

But time went by
And I began collecting seashells by the seashore.
The ocean became a treasure and my name
Had a new ring to it.
Yet when eighth grade graduation came around I was given the option
Of writing Mariya instead of Miriam.
I was going to high school where I didn’t know anyone.
So no one needed to know my bitter past.
I also learned that a name was not made up of syllables
But of sweet sounds.
Mmm – like the taste of something so delicious your eyes close
And you feel yourself melting.
Aaa – you’ve just finished your meal and on this hot summer day
You find solace in the cool water running down your back in the shower.
Rrr – racing, running, reaching for the sky.
That’s the sound I want my plane to make when I can hold a piece of
Cloud in the palm of my hand and feel its silver lining.
Iii – the sound of “and” in many languages. The sound of something more,
Reminding me that this is not the end.
Ya – the sound of agreement and conclusion. As if that is all I have to say…so yeah.

I walked down the quiet roads filled with daffodils
Our feelings merged and made a beautiful green
The lamppost stood there, sighing, waiting
Waiting for my silhouette like everyday in the evening

The rain fought with the breeze for my longing touch
Drops flirted with my hair and merged into dew
Water caressed in through my parted lips
And I tasted, bland, reminiscent of how I feel without you.

Sing me to sleep
With this soft lullaby.

Wash away my fears
With your kind heart.
Stand by me
With your unfading loyalty.
Remind me of our memories
With your steady breath.
Take me far away
With your endearing imagination.
Help me let go
With your will to live on.

Sing me to sleep
With this soft lullaby.

I can't breathe and its your fault. You are all the elephant sitting on my lungs. With each breath your weight is all the more crushing. Every little struggle makes me so close to hating you. Hate is hollowing. I have felt it. You think you can't help it, you call me cruel. Words weigh more than you'd care to know so even in that I suppose you really don't care about me. Even in that love is a flighty phrase you haven't yet used with sincerity. But you don't know it or maybe you just won't admit it. I always hope you'll each find your way but please don't sit and wait, please don't sit any longer on my lungs, for me to find my way. I've found it now, so quietly and I'm afraid, I'm overjoyed, I chose the path leading far and away.