they say poetry is about making your words count,
making something out of nothing,
to make the words make sense only to those who knew--
--those who knew how to read, feel, unfeel and come apart--

but poetry was never easy for me

not when i had no words to explain the pain--
no words to describe the stories behind the faded scars, tanned and bulging still
no words to describe how the once constant flow of black blood onto stationery,
has now entered a moment of stillness, veins closing in on themselves,
the life force of words slowly coming to an end
i never had any words that could explain the emptiness in my ribs,
the pit of feelings growing more and more void as time passed by
years passed, pain came and went, and i still had no words to describe

there were no words that could describe the tiny little whispers past midnight,
beside my mother in our once big, big, bed, or in the bathroom, on the
pristine, white tiles in our former house,
the tiny whispers that were prayers, pleas, and curses thrown out into the darkness
soft, tiny, whispers, giving out what i possibly can without the stress of poetry

i miss you, i'd whisper against my phone, back against a tiled wall
feet skidding against the bathroom tiles as my knees supported my head
i hate you
it was my fault, i chanted silently, tears against my face and the
pillow
all my fault, i stuff my pillow in my mouth, forcing down the sobs,
if i were better, this wouldn't have happened

with each swift stroke of my brush, with a bright red being the only paint color i had
the voices in my head whispering softly, loudly, ringing in my ears
keep going, keep going, it's not enough, you can do it

the ceiling would be my best friend in times like these
being witness, and ear, to all the whispers i let out in the dark
it was the closest i could get to having a canvas, a blank page of a notebook
to write--speak, whisper, plead--poetry on, poetry of my own standards
poetry that made sense, only to me, poetry that was written in a language
that only i could read

*this will all be over soon

it's been a while since
you, who used to be
my best friend, my light,
have talked to me.

it's been a while since i've seen
your face close up.

your eyes retained the glow of before;
still as bright as before,
still so beautiful, filled with a sense
of tranquility and acceptance
that i still lack for myself

i think they grew even more beautiful over time

it's been so long since
i've heard you call me that name

"linsanity

it's been so long, chi,
it's been so long.

november twenty five
before the night ended
before the celebrations came to a halt
you came in

in the security of my room,
my phone vibrated

hey linsanity!
happy birthday!
god bless!

oh.
oh.
oh my god

every fiber in my being shook
an earthquake was happening inside

the lungs that now had
a different resident in them
began to grow wild plants
in distress and joy

hands that have gotten used
to another that weren't his
trembled in sheer panic
and emotion

it's been so long, chi.

i haven't said your nickname
in over two years
yet it still felt right
it still felt like
home
on my tongue

how could this be,
how could you come back
so suddenly, as if
you didn't hurt me?

you, who was my first love,
suddenly came in
like how fall comes in out of nowhere

surprising
something i rarely experience
not very needed
but
not unwanted

*i've been waiting

turn back the clock to the times
when rain clouds weren't as heavy
and my lungs didn't heave as hard

gasping for air to reach out to you
running
running
running

just getting closer to get farther again from your shadow

how did it come to this, i wonder?

boy meets girl
awkward boy in a jacket all day
short haired girl recovering from pain
it was nothing, really

chance, i'd say
fate, you'd counter

everything starts out great

fingertips barely brushing
against each other
too shy, too shy

secret glances exchanged
in busy hallways.
looking forward to break times;
looking for that special face in the crowd,
but never really going for it

we were cowards

and then it happened
fingers began to reach out for each other
grasping at whatever can be held

tightly
closely
fiercely

but now
your fingertips are spread
wide open, far away
i can't reach them

i run, and run and run
but my legs
can only go so far

take a rest
deep breaths
look back

the gap is so big now

we're still cowards, maybe even bigger ones now

how can i hold your hand now?

you cannot be mine to hold.

you were warm and
so was i, but maybe
not as much.

the warmth you radiated was
different

it was not like the sun's
nor like the stars up above

but instead
it was like the warmth of a
gentle embrace –
it was soft and
reminiscent of days
filled with nature and honesty

but i cannot love you.

no matter how warm you were
to the touch of my slightly colder soul,
it was not possible.

it wasn't because it was wrong

(what even is wrong nowadays?)

no, it was because
it isn't safe to love you

you made a strange place into a home
when i was already in one
you made glass bridges seem like something
worth walking over to reach you

gentle steps on a bridge meant to break
tiny, quiet, baby steps
slowly turn into the reckless steps
of a pre teen
and into the breathless gallops
of a teenager in distress and love

you are not my home, but god,
you are so close to it already

and so you see
you cannot be mine hold

this risk is too big for the both of us
and neither of us plans to pick up
what could be left of us

(we already aren't picking up
our residues now,
what more later on?)

we are what people sing about, what pop culture is made of;
darling, we are what everyone wants to be--
two idiots in love, happy and content
the building blocks of all young adult novels, everyone's goal
but nobody ever bothers to know how this love came to be
what's behind it, who's had to weep, why it happened

it was love at first sight for him, and she, a few months later
they were happy and awkward, like childhood lovers decades ago
god, were we ******* adorable
i hated how you confessed online, but made up for it
when i confessed back in person, two weeks later
(your blushing face and awkwardness were enough as payment)
you properly asked me out later on, beside my very yellow school bus
we had our first kiss in our school's unkempt football field

honey, we're what everyone wants to be
a couple made up of two distant planets that were apparently meant to create a whole new galaxy entirely
(and we both loved that, didn't we?)

then came our sudden fallout from your part,
and six months
have never seemed so long not until this whole **** happened

there was nothing for those whole six months
silence, dullness, emptiness
the sky looked like what i would see if i were drunk,
just a mess of dark colors with no real meaning and affection to it
everything looked like that, and in the midst of all that
i realized something

honey, from the start, we were what everyone wanted to be
we were in love
but we were never friends, were we?

those six months are done now, and again, we hold hands
the planets are back together, our new galaxy expands each day
i look outside my window,
and each night sky i see turns into another work of art once again

god, i love you so much right now
more than i did before we cracked
(more like before you cracked and i crumbled)
we're slowly piecing ourselves back up
and again, i think:

love, we are why poems need to be romanticized
why stories need to be written by people who love dictionaries
why pop songs are repetitive and love songs are everywhere

we went about this the wrong way, because honey,
we were just lovers,
we were never friends

(that's all changing now, though.
thank god.)

as you swept the hair
away from my face,
i thought about how
beautiful your eyes
are.

how the brown of
them all shone behind
your half-rimmed
glasses and how they
seemed to smile
with your lips at me
too.

as you tucked the
blackness behind
my right ear,
i couldn't help but
stare at you only.

the way you chuckled
as i looked sheepishly
at you in confusion was
really enchanting to me.

"you're so weird," you said.
"looking so confused at me
fixing your hair."

"why wouldn't i be?" it was
snarky, but it wasn't supposed
to be. "it's not like a lot do
that to me."

you grinned, and your
yellowish and whitish
teeth looked brighter
than the sun itself.

"well, you got me,
and that's more than
enough to keep you
positive in life."

a warm, calloused hand
found its way to my head.
my hair was messed up,
but it was long and thick,
so it looked proper still.

"a smile looks better on you,
y'know. like how your hair
looks better beside your face."

too bad, all that hair
is gone now.
too bad, that smile
faded more now.
too bad, that girl you
knew grew farther
away now.

too bad, i cannot
see your eyes from
the same angle
anymore.

blue stationary
no bigger than my hand
black blood
nearly as thick as our crimson ones
collided

folding the paper, i keep it
my pocket was full that day
and so i emptied it

empty, empty, empty
but not as empty
as you made me feel
afterwards

picture-taking, hugging, dancing
singing at the top of our lungs
throats going hoarse
friendly "i love you" 's

wishing can **** you

before you left
i ran

hug him, one last time
come on

so i did

eyes downcast, i stuffed my feelings
into your left breast pocket
and ran away

i stood from a safe distance
so near, yet so far
as i watched you read the paper

eyes that resemble the dark soil
where trees are planted and that absorbs sunlight
grew wide behind your glasses
the color of pink roses dusted your cheeks
as if cherry blossom petals began to grow on you

silently, you keep the paper
as other eyes began to pry
you sent me little look that i caught
and our eyes met

you've never turned away so quickly away from me
until then

later that day
in the confines of my school bus
i texted you

i'm sorry for running out on you
and just stuffing the letter in your pocket
but
i'm not sorry for giving it
and
...
yeah
sorry.

you texted me later on,

it's alright

march eighteen
the day before our finals
you stopped texting me.

ever since then,
our eyes avoided each other
nicknames
drowned like fishes that were poisoned
holding hands
became nothing but a memory
jackets
lost their warmth
pen-tapping
was nothing but noise

and smiling
became nothing

however, on the last day of school
you came to me
you, whose eyes still continued to
avoid mine
slowly turned to face me

the cherry blossoms
looked so beautiful on your
pimple decorated cheeks

i thought
that you were there to talk to me
to say that you liked me back
that i was pretty
that you
needed me too

ah, but
you didn't

you
never
will

you were there for your other friends
friends that were my friends too
friends,
who cheered me on after i gave you the letter
when all others laughed at me

friends
that mean more to you
than i ever will

you stride through the halls
and wait as they came out
knowing full well
i was doing the same

you and i
face to face
on different sides
of the hallway
hands holding onto backpacks
eyes avoiding each other
glasses slightly off the edge

our friends soon came out
and the time for us to truly part
was near

maybe you knew it too

before i left, you tapped me on the shoulder
"Hey,"

i smiled a small smile of melancholy
"Hey."

"Enjoy your summer, Linsanity."

that *****
no bigger than my fist
clenched like it
it cracked
shattered
and was pierced
by the sheer happiness
innocence
on your face

ah,
i
see

it hurts, it hurts
it hurts so much

"You too."

and so,
we parted
you passed north
and i,
south.

your secret nickname was
gone
your public nickname was
gone
all that was left
was your last name
and it tasted
bitter
on my tongue

yet
why
am i
still
"linsanity"
to you?