he peeled off the bandages on his heart,
and for the first time, I saw the cuts.
some shallow, some deep.
he told me the story of each cut,
running his hands over the wounds,
wincing at the sharp pain.
my eyes filled with tears -
seeing the person I love in pain
made my own heart ache.
yet I remained quiet, listened,
gave him space to share his story,
and let him know that I understood.
he trusts me, and I refuse to cut his heart.
I love him, and I'll never put him through that.

the sun bids a farewell to the earth,
then waves at the moon
because it's her cue.
she always comes  
at the perfect time,
and she helps the night
whisper hello to the world.

my heart spills its feelings
similar to how blood flows.
my cheeks turn scarlet
as my eyes take him in.
the hue of my thoughts
is the color of love.

slash their words by
demanding obedience.
burn them by
shaming their dreams.
cut them to the core
by belittling their feelings -
say their feelings don't matter
as much as yours.
the result?
doubts bring them
to their knees,
constantly questioning
others and their motives.
they wonder if they're
too much and not enough,
if their feelings are valid.
their wounds scare them
into submission.
authority is not an excuse
for abuse.
nothing is.

neither.
her body froze over,
attempting to protect her.
it became a block of ice,
waiting for him to leave.
when he did,
she slowly, carefully
chipped at the ice.
some parts of her
are still frozen,
but she's walking
towards the sun.

she didn't see him slithering.
her heart was pounding,
but everything seemed fine
until she felt him
coiling around her
tighter and tighter
until she couldn't breathe.

she clutched a pocketknife.
with the last drop of
strength she had,
she slashed him
and he slithered away.
after she caught her breath,
she realized he was a snake.

when she was younger,
she thought growing up
was the extinction of
her younger selves
to create an adult self.

now she knows
these past selves
are living within her
and will always be there
as her new self keeps evolving.

she needs to host reunions
and invite her younger selves -  
for fun and memories,
laughter and spontaneity,
to remember her roots.

she felt his gravitational pull
she thought it would lead
to another universe
one glittering with stars.

instead, she was pulled into
a vast, pitch black void -
one with no life to be seen,
in which stars were only a dream.

she could only hear her heartbeat
and his voice tempting her
she started to shiver,
wondering when this would end.

suddenly, she felt a pull
from the people she loved
that pull was strong, urgent -
just what she needed to leave him.

before she knew it,
she was back in her universe,
safe, warm, loved, lively.
the stars were here all along.

whenever their words are sandpaper
that aggressively rubs her heart
and forms stinging cuts,
her hands always reach for
her soft, fluffy, warm blanket.
as it envelops her in its warmth,
her heart heals the cuts
and becomes soft again.

the vibrant plants
and talkative animals
cleared a path for her.
she followed that path
for a while, then paused.
she sat at the bank of the river
watching the leaves go by.
she placed her fears,
doubts, and troubles
onto these leaves,
whispered "goodbye,"
and let them float away.

her teeth chattered
as the frigid wind
surrounded her.
he traced her wrists,
then held her hands.
her teeth fell silent
as his eyes met hers.
in that moment,
she knew he would stay
even during the winter.

our deepest desires
shine under the soft light.
they always catch fire
as we whisper good night.

the smell lures you in.
all you want is food
until you're suddenly
fighting for your life.
you can never catch a breath
without someone behind you.
because when you rest
for even one second
that's when they strike.

the clouds were crying
to release the weight
from their shoulders.
yet there was no storm,
no ominous claps or flashes.
the sky was the lightest blue -
content, tranquil, at peace.

I stare at the 15 year old girl
for the last time
her features match mine -
the only difference was her youth
they lowered her into the ground
I covered my eyes with my hands.

a few days later, I visited her grave
wondering if her spirit was nearby
etched onto her obsidian gravestone -
"here lies innocence in its purest form,
you will be greatly missed,
1999-2015"

all the words came pouring out -
all the words she didn't have then
that I found, that I have now.
I told her that she did nothing wrong,
that I love her, that I'm sorry this happened.
the tears flowed as fast as the words.

and that was when I saw it -
her spirit - dressed in white, smiling.
her weary eyes met mine as she spoke.
"my body left, but not my soul.
he didn't take my soul away,
and he never will. I'm always here."

I embraced her with all my strength,
happy tears streaming down my face.
she smiled for the first time in a while.
I whispered, "I'll be back, I promise."
I walked away from the cemetery,
a content smile on my face.

the tree grew in rocky soil -
now its fruit is decaying.
its seeds fell into
the same rocky soil,
sprouting into trees
with the same decaying fruit.

these trees feel the decay.
they know to spread their seeds
where the soil is fertile.
and the resulting trees
will bear ripe fruits
for future generations.

when she talks to him,
her words run together.
her heart sings a love song,
eyes glowing with the truth.

she becomes a cherry blossom -
blushing, shy smiles,
bursting with life.
her petals soak up the sun,
leaves hungry for more -
whenever she's with him.

my mind is the city
that never sleeps.
thoughts roam the streets -
some with circular commutes.
some glare at each other
some smile, uplifting everyone.
despite the chaotic rhythm,
the underlying beat of my heart
determines the pace of the city.

the waves lulled her
into a restful state
until she woke up
deep in the ocean
with tangled seaweed
around her.

"is this how it'll end?"
"no," a voice whispered.
her body valiantly fought
to reach the surface.
she took a much needed breath
as the waves carried her to the shore.

his heart flowed from his fingertips
as he stood in front of the choir.
when the applause started,
an angel only visible to her
crowned him with a halo.
her heart saw the purest,
whitest light as it ascended.
every cell in her body knew
one truth in that moment -
this was the start of her first love.

he latched onto her inexperience,
his fangs sank into her skin,
refusing to let go until
he had full access.

her heart raced,
but for the wrong reasons
her thoughts ran in circles
until they couldn't run anymore.

she noticed the poisonous leech
desperately attempted to shake him
yet his fangs sank in deeper -
drawing blood, forming a scar.

their experience helped her
remove the leech,
the poison was drained
with an antidote - support.

it illuminated all,
hid nothing
her first instinct:
close the blinds
and her eyes.
  
after a while
she opened the blinds.
her eyes followed suit,
squinting, adjusting,
taking in her surroundings.

the light shook hands
with the darkness
its touch healed,
helping her produce
light of her own.

my hometown has a straight edge,
obedient new kid vibe -
one that other cities hate.
yet it resides in my heart,
its memories forming
the shape of who I am today.

his words burned through people
with barely a care in the world
corrosive, toxic, flammable,
the strongest acid she'd ever seen.

her words slid over people
like soap, a weak base
so she kept quiet
meek could have been
her middle name.

she thought they could neutralize.
she thought he was a weaker acid,
one that could complement her,
not one that burned at the touch.

but burn he did.

nevertheless, she prevailed.

she walks into an abyss.
the light slowly fades -
she barely notices.

she starts to run
as her breathing quickens.
she claws at the abyss,
hoping for a way out.

she hears a voice,
soft yet secure,
that guides her.
the light appears as
she takes small steps.

she keeps walking
until the light engulfs her.
she is free.

she stops at a plateau.
everywhere she looks, she sees
distinct memories from her past.
to the left are cotton candy skies,
fields of rainbow gumdrops.
straight ahead are the ruins,
ash and tar darkening the land.
to the right are serene clouds
paired with flashes of lightning.
she's not sure if there are
mountains or valleys ahead,
but after seeing her past,
and who she is now,
she's ready to continue her journey.

blades of green lightly stab your feet.
the cool breeze caresses your arms
as the sun enhances your radiant face
you are at peace in this moment.

she yells from the bottom of a well,
thinking someone will hear her.
no one does, so she climbs.

as she's climbing, she hears a voice
that voice sends her tumbling
toward the bottom of the well.

she yells until she can't anymore
bursts into tears, curls up into a ball -
and desperately wants to be heard.

the brain is a filter
severing unhelpful connections
we try to hold the smoke
of rapidly fading memories
yet it passes through our fingertips.

since we worry about what we lack
the loss of memories may create a void
yet that same void can hold
new, tangible memories
ones that help us grow.

underappreciated-
most do not see her beauty -
their dreams pull them away.
some eyes burn from the midnight oil -
to them, she may seem like a hallucination.
others run too quickly to start a conversation.
a rare few wait for her -
they appreciate her beauty,
continuing the conversation in awe.
she does not live for the people of this earth,
but she provides for them no matter what.

the threads connecting us
to our loved ones
need to stay strong
like spider's silk
to survive this battle.

she waits for the days when their eyes will meet again. the days when his arms keep the rest of the world out in order to let her in. the days when his smile beckons her to drop the armor at his feet and present her raw, vulnerable self to him. the days when her eyes drink him in slowly and deliberately to savor the memory.

until then, her laughter rings out over hundreds of miles. his caring questions touch her heart just the same. his musings about random topics never fail to rivet her. her smile lingers long after their talks, and her love never dies.

after a long monsoon,
the sun dries the cloud's tears.

my love for him
is intricately woven
into my body.
the loose ends are
tied in a perfect bow
on top of my heart.

then...
was intangible
less than a spirit
its voice inaudible
color exited life.

now...
is truly tangible
a spirit with a bright aura
its voice so enticing and loud
that color is entering life again.

sadness took my hand
and refused to let go.
I couldn't stop shivering,
and she was the reason why.
I acknowledged her words
then told her, "it's not you, it's me,"
let go of her hand, and felt warm again.

today was infused with an energy so strong
that you could see crackling electricity in the air.
the energy settled and slowed down
until it flowed like molasses, calm and languid.

remember the mountains you've climbed,
the valleys, the deserts, the cold nights,
everything you've been through to reach here.
bring the lessons, the people you love,
anything you need for the journey ahead,
and greet the new year at the summit.

their laughter drifts into the air.
her honey irises sparkle
every time his smile
warms up the room.
these moments with him
form sugar crystals.
the crystals are kept
close to her heart
as her love for him grows.

the inner voice whispers,
"tell them you're struggling."
my vocal cords are warmed up,
ready to give life to the words.
but the hand over my mouth
is an impermeable barrier
set by the critical voice
that is fueled by fear.

the people who should protect her
stare into her exhausted eyes 
and hammer nails into her heart.
chains bearing obligation and trauma
coil tighter and tighter around her ankles. 
resisting worsens the sensation -
almost cutting off the circulation
until the pain is so great 
that numbness takes over,
which leads to not resisting,
which feels like resignation - 
and the cycle keeps going.
all she wants is to run freely 
until the nails and chains
are distant memories 
that she will never
pass on to anyone else.

my love carries
the scent of vanilla perfume.
it drifts through me,
then dances with the wind
until it finally reaches him,
the man a thousand miles away,
and brings us closer together.

on some days
I'm a piece of sandpaper -
rubbed and rubbed
until I'm raw and stinging,
until there's almost nothing left.

but there's a little corner
that doesn't sting,
that renews my hope,
that heals every part of me
until I'm whole again.

I wanted a doctorate,
one that specialized in him -
to know him so thoroughly
that the lines on his palms were
ones I could recite in my sleep
I was so close to getting it.

His voice caught my attention.
"What?" he asked kindly.
"Oh, nothing," I said nonchalantly
as I averted my eyes,
kept the blossoming love hidden.
I resolved to try another day.

on some days,
my feelings spill
over the rim of
the vessel that is my body,
so I compress them
until they're ready to burst.

then I relax and remind myself:
my feelings need space.
the people who have space
will reach into the vessel
and help you hold them
until everything is okay again.

my trust is like waves of the ocean.
they meet the sand at the shore,
then run away faster than ever.
if the waves are too strong,
will the sand vanish...
or will it be pulled by the waves?

I am complete -
with or without him.
he is not the glue
for the cuts
on my heart.
instead,
he stands by me
as I heal them.

the breeze tickles her hair 
and takes her worries with it. 
the sun wants a break
just for a little while.
she misses the sun,
but knows it needs a minute.
she'll be here when it's ready.

he helped me untangle
the knots in my mind
just by being there.