Here I am, falling for you all over again,
I find your mystery deepened and new,
Yet your presence aligns all my chaos,
I find only serenity and quiet with you;

Your eyes form an iridescent bridge,
I find the colors of a home I want in them,
I could watch them sparkle for all of my life,
Forever keep your gaze on me, Miss Supernova?

Make me laugh again, make me feel alive,
Make me feel everything etched by your hands,
Tell me your heart~ past, present and future,
Give me your thoughts~ unspoken, now and to be;

Miss Gorgeolious, I find you utterly marvelous,
Our adventure is the best feeling I've felt,
I find your touch intoxicating and rich,
I miss you, come home to me soon :)

but hope too has a powerful current,
strong enough to move me towards things
I believed I was too weak for.

hope resects the doubt from my body,
and makes the lack of air in my lungs bearable,
until I reach the shore.

and hope, reminds me that there is more.
more to see,
more to experience,
more wonder than dread.

so I’ll do my best to surrender the doubt,
and adopt the hope instead.

This window is my calendar and every sunrise feels like a Monday,
Where every leaf dances to the wind, up and down, in a spiraling parade,
I've grown jealous of the coat on every squirrel and the feather of every bird,
Skittering and fluttering their designs, jumping and flying without any concern.

My one and only attire has a lot to be desired, by comparison to say the least,
And my arms and legs, as numb and limp as stone, just can't even compete,
Although I may be bald, the feeling of standing hair slithers through my skin,
And I can't help but shed tears of joy, despite all this envy I feel within.

I should be running more, over emerald fields of blades, tickling up a smile,
I want new clothes, tighter than mine, that hug like a mother to her child,
I need to get out of this room, far from all these imitation ice cream walls,
Where a sweet aroma actually lingers, like concessions at the mall.

I'm just so sick and tired of all these procedures in my life,
Unable to carve up courage, choosing a needle over a knife,
Never having the literal nerve to just get up and leave,
Drowning in a bed comprised of a salty, sweaty sea.

But Friday is near, nature is there and I am here, a daydreaming accident,
And soon I will be free from all my "brave" and "strong" commitments,
Friday is almost here and I've become so sick that I can barely breathe,
Just one more day of chemo and maybe, just maybe, I'll be free.

I once tried to become the sky.
Let the wind take what was left of me.
Let my only legacy be:
“The Girl Who Once Flew.”

I once tried to become the sky.
But heaven was heavier than I imagined.
I thought it would make sense—
I hoped the air would catch me,
that it would hold me as someone that meant something.

But gravity had other plans.
I didn’t fly.
I fell.
And I didn’t even realize I was falling until I looked up and saw I was at rock bottom.

Yet there was something grounding about falling.
It was satisfying to know
that I’ve fallen and couldn’t fall any more further.

Instead I laid there.
My legs and arms spread,
still bracing for a concrete I already hit.

I looked up at the clouds with envy.
Not because they floated—
but because they’ll never know what it’s like to fall.

I once tried to become the sky.
But I wrote this instead.
So I’d have something I left behind.

Fallen cherry blooms,
Sticks to my wet skin like grief,
Brief and hard to hold.

I read of your passing and paused mid-bite.
The world seemed to grow colder, but you knew
it was time to begin your next adventure, one
far beyond this familiar world we had shared.

Scientist — no, pioneering champion —  
in the fight against cancer and diabetes,
you were humble even in your brilliance.
A giant among men, a heart greater still.

I can only think of each time you passed
me in the hallway, your shy smile luminous
even as you ducked past me as if afraid
I might start speaking about what we had both

lost so long ago. You had always been my late dad’s
favorite boss, and I remember the thoughtful albeit brief
email you sent me when the cancer took him, expressing
your sorrow that a great scientist and fellow man had left

this cruel world far too soon. Now you join him
and I picture the two of you, both clad in white lab coats
colliding in an awkward embrace, eager to update one another
on all that the other had missed from the other side.

For those who still believe
Happy Fourth of July
And for those who lost hope
Happy firework night

With trembling fingers, I lift the lid of the inkwell.
A strong gust of wind flings the wooden window open.

...that escapes my notice.

Deep inhale — sharp scent of ink pierces my senses.
I'm disturbed by how profoundly she understands me.

The old, open window screeches.

Am I losing my mind? No one has ever wept alongside me.
I sink the nib into that small vessel, into which, somehow, all my bitterness has been poured.

The freezing cold gnaws at my right cheek, seeping into my skin.

                         Reality hits me.

I toss the pen aside in disbelief.

I look to my right, toward the open window I just now noticed.
I get up and shut it.

Uneasily, I turn slowly to face her, and I stare — speechless.

"So you were a lie as well."

when seasons come and go one always comes prepared
But does anybody tell you, are they ever aware?
That said seasons sometimes bring only rain
That some seasons somethings leave one drained

When your beliefs fail you, and you 2nd guess if heaven is real
That mistakes turn sour and you can't seam to heal
Certain that its better in the afterlife
But waiting impatiently cause down here doesn't suffices


That a child could bring such joy and remind us of home
That those golden clouds were where we used to play
Before we had to atone, sin and and eyes covered in foam
So happily depressed you don't even move out the way
When the wheels of life drive right towards you


Apologies if it seems I left you high and dry
But my own sins made me pay in extreme ways
Misunderstandings and be comings
One wonders if I ran from circumstance

Tuck your brothers in at night child, stay with hope of heaven
And continue in believing and serving
You are a child I met in the summer sun, inspiring and driving
Me to see God and plead for forgiveness and a daughter of that liking
But is it them or myself I'm spiting? By biting(my tongue), fighting (my morals) and Inviting (my demons).

Forgive your mistakes, they know not what they've done to you
Go on to be wonderful, and Know that Jesus Loves you

A ride so long,
I stayed still — patiently.
Despite the bumps, the noise,
deep breaths were my only companion.

I looked out the window
from the very first time I hopped in,
and I’ve seen all four seasons since.

At first,
my eyes would sting from the raw sunlight,
my skin would burn as it wept under heat.
Later, when night came,
there was barely an echo —
only paths drowned in darkness
and chills that wrapped the air.

They left me with goosebumps,
my gaze sinking toward my lap,
as my heart quietly shrank.

But there were good times, too —
when skies stretched wide in scattered colors,
when leaves fell gently from trees
and I’d reach up to catch them, one by one.
When the steel in the air
felt like a hug too big to let go.

That — was comfort.

And right now, I’ll wait again to feel that.
It’s okay if it takes longer,
because today,
I can finally sleep under the sun.

Will it really come?
I don’t want to doubt it —
It may take longer…
but seasons never skip, right?