that crick in your neck when you're looking at books

sometimes violets pop up early

there is always chocolate

it's fun to get letters in the mail

things are going to be ok.

rainbows happen (or you can just draw some)

there are babysitters getting bored of peek-a-boo

drinking really cold water when you just finished exercising

again, chocolate

i know this looks like
nothing more than a list
but, it's a new year and
for some reason
in the middle of
silly traditions
we can get a little
booster of hope.

things are going to be ok.

One thread came loose with alcoholism at a very young age.
She recovered. She forgot and proceeded.
One thread was yanked loose by a growing tendency to self sabotage.
She clawed her way out of the spiral.
One thread pulled at others when she learnt she didn’t need alcohol to have a good time.
She felt deprived by self-restraint. So she slightly caved.
One thread burned along with her personality when she became a stoner again.
She was suffocated yet high.
One thread was singed by ****.
She fell back into her ***** habits. She found herself here, but not quite present.
She became dependant. As she flooded her body parts with superficial happiness, just a quick release, her mouth grew dry. Then the peeling skin on her stained lips began to stick together and she regressed into a still and faded silence. In the end, she was in shreds and blissfully unaware, alone with nothing but one solitary thread left to grasp at.

Please practice the art of giving up on giving up.

fingers curl into loose fists,
grasping softly at the frigid air in hopes of
feeling the temperature change.

january, i adore you.

a fresh start, a blank slate: one entire year
of endless possibility.
january, you are freezing;
but with you comes change.

i love you, i do. but please excuse
the way my hands hold out
to grasp at March’s warmer breaths

i, too, wish to breathe a new life
warm and
full of sunshine

she was gone

before i could even tell her,
that her voice was loud enough,
and the way she colored me
never matched anyone’s.

the missed years
and wasted sunsets
now sit across the table,
mocking me into submission.

there was a lot i could’ve done for her.
it now rests upon my shoulder,
they form like alien letters
and weigh like blood.

the legends are real,
listen - i know now.
there is nothing heavier
than bearing who you were everyday.

Every time I hear of you--
I wonder what went wrong
that you would choose
another over me.

The cogwheels of my brain
would constantly rewind
to the very day we meet;
the nerves I had prior
and the brief good memories.

This bitter nostalgia
reminded me of
my foolish sense of hope
that I was the special one
among many others--

Only when I was told
that I was rejected
did I realise...
I was only a pitiful jester;
dancing and joking
for your fancy
on that very day.

I could not help thinking,
being rejected on a Christmas eve
is a terrible Christmas present,
and also the only Christmas present I had.

They say that it was not His will--
But they also did not know...
Perhaps it was His will
that I spend the dead morning of Christmas
soaking my pillow in tears
while nursing a overactive mind.

And yes, I saw you again on New Years Eve--
from afar, where everyone was celebrating
of their successful association with you
with delirious hopefulness and motivation...
Meanwhile, I was made to
welcome the New Year all alone
with tears in memory of your rejection.

As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,
After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And those before,

And I may know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.

New Year’s Day – The first time I’ve seen you in two years.

It’s funny, for two years, I never once thought about you.
You were never on my mind.
You were never considered.
I never fantasized about you.
I never dreamed about you.
But then I saw you.

Tall, fit, messy hair.
White tee, sweatpants, and a bit of scruff.
Seeing you like this, all grown-up, brand new
It made me mad.

I’m mad because for two years
Two whole years
I’ve said nothing.
Two whole years
I never reached out.
Two whole years
And now, I can finally see.

I like you. A lot.
And I think you might like me.
At least, I think you could like me.

But before things could start, they end.
I fly back to Chicago soon,
Who knows when I’ll be back.
You fly back to school soon,
Who knows when you’ll be back.
And yet, here I am, holding my breath.

**** my ignorance.
**** my bad timing.
**** my feelings for you.

**** you for looking so good in sweatpants.