You
Are best in yourself
OK you are a stained
Glass
People have used which
And colored as they wanted!
OK
You are a silver ***
You have royal poison
And perfume!
OK you maybe a hand
Who is stained
With such blood
The smell of which
Even the choicest
Perfumes of Arabia won't
OK you are a bed of roses
Which witness
The honey nights
Of beings mortal
And the end
Of those same
Mortal beings
Maybe you wish
Let them rest in peace
OK even for a criminal
At the end
You give in to his
Right to be himself
And grant his soul
Peace!
You are but you!
You dispel fears
Take the lamp
Of light
Knowledge
Forward!
In this world
But have you removed that cloth
Let the truth be naked
That you are you
You'll be the same you
After you realize this
And with new vision
To turn your sorrows
Of being someone else
Into normalcy
Because
Inside you
Its only you who's you!

"your mother is an alcoholic,"
my mom jokingly said to
me one night
as she was pouring
herself another drink.

as a kid,
i didn't understand alcohol
or my mother's drinking habits.
she always seemed fine to me,
or at least pretended to be.

i didn't think anything
of the late nights,
or the excuses she sometimes
fabricated.

i smiled at her
and pretending i wasn't
actually worrying inside.
my mother was strong,
she was tough,
and i wasn't one
to criticize her drinking.

and while she said
those words as a
lighthearted joke,
i don't think she realized
i sometimes worried
for my future
and whether my
drinking habits
would hurt me
down the line.

i didn't want
to have to drink
to the bottom of the
bottle to feel something.

nor did i want to have
to drink to escape my reality.

it's a little twisted
and i'm not sure
when things got like this.

and the culture of college
doesn't help people like
me much.

"take another shot"
i take it to ease
the pain,
but i know in
the morning,
it won't make a difference,
i'll still feel the same.

ounces of alcohol,
stumbling legs,
loose smiles,
but things aren't
really what they seem.

i don't have to be
my mother's drinking habits,
pouring a glass each night
after work.

but how much
control do i actually have?
because i already feel
as if i'm spiraling
out of control.

Someone once told me that I was in love with the sea

And I believed them

I was entranced by the steadiness of his current

He kept me afloat even when the storms would jostle me about

How his gentle saltwater kisses on my cheeks would leave me breathless by filling my lungs with water

How the consistency of his tide made me run to him daily

How complacent I was to be at his beckoned call

All because people told me that I was in love with the sea


But I am not in love with the sea


Because I am in love with the shore

How she sparkles when the sun shines on her

And how her sand tickles between my toes

Her warmth engulfs me like a blanket

How she pulls me back and keeps me grounded

She catches me and holds me close when the sea throws me in its rage

Oh how many times it took me to be hurled from the sea until I realized I belonged in the arms of the shore

A siren's song,
no one had heard,
too easily mistaken,
for the remedy to our wounds.

A boy lost,
his life only a day,
before I realized,
why stay here?

This life can be broken,
shattered easily with touch,
but I remember now,
why it is so beautiful.

I have many companions,
a woman who loves,
for me and my life,
I have friends.

I would miss the snow,
as it falls in lacey grace,
covering the Earth,
in blankets so heavy.

Some words are hard,
to spit or roll off my tongue,
but that is why I push,
press through life.

The universe serves,
only who stay true,
and who stay calm,
collected in their thoughts.

Clouds don't scream,
only cry through the rain,
but always live to see,
the next day.

A crow's caw,
doesn't pierce the air,
unless someone is willing,
to hear it themself.

And a man can only love,
if they open their eyes,
face the battle,
and step forward.

My observations serve,
only as a reminder,
hard to say,
whether judgement will serve.

Hard to say,
goodbye and even sometimes,
I love you,
but it will get better.

Reach forth and take my hand,
let's walk through the fire,
close our eyes,
and leap.

If love is what fixes every deepened wound
then why am I hurting?
If love is the answer to every problem
then why am I questioning?

If love is the sunshine on a dark day
then why am I feeling cold?
If love is a miracle potion that keeps you young
then why am I feeling old?

If love is what makes the world go round
then why am I stuck standing still?
If love is the band aid that protects all of your cuts
then why am I not yet healed?

If love is the only thing that is true
then why do I doubt?
If love demands you to be faithful
then why do I want to bail out?

If love is what you claim to be giving
then why am I always crying?
If love is what you say you're doing
then why inside am I dying?

If love is when you hold my throat
then why do they say I should want it?
If love is when you call me names
then why do they say I should like it?

If love is the night you pinned me to the ground
then why is everyone searching for it?
If love is the way you slammed me against the wall
then why is it crushing my spirits?

If love is the thing I'm receiving from you
then why am I always bruised?
If this is love, I do not want it.
Love is sacred, and not abuse.

Your life doesn't seem different because it is small subtle changes happening all the time that we adjust to
Sometimes it will never hit us how much our lives has changed
Sometimes it will hit us randomly or when we lose something drastic that we thought we will never lose.
I remember when I was a little girl, I always dreamed of growing up and taking the freeways to work at my dream job, able to wear makeup every day and dress professionally, being taken seriously but also living a fun adult life
One day when I was on the freeway going to work, it all hit me:
I am the adult woman that my little girl self always wanted to be.

like the thin air,
you slipped
between my fingertips

i tried to hold
on to you,
us, and
what we shared
together

i wanted it to
stay in tact
but there was no
use

it was all
slipping away,
i could feel
the distance
between me and you

i had to let go
of what i wanted
you to be

i was living in
a dream
and it was time
to face reality.

Four stacks spaced out,
The biggest with waves of curtains
The third with books,
The fourth had my shoes.
The top most out of my reach.
My father and brother
Would stack them in
But I climbed on a chair
And threw some covers in.

That same chair
Black with wheels
My father thought I will study in
Ran over my right foot
Last my sister was here.
As she examined it, I learnt
My sister had finally become
The woman she studied for.
The chair now nurses a few ***** laundry.

Last evening my right foot
Became useless
When I stubbed my left
On the corner of the bed
I laughed at the irony
That I had no perfect foot
To compare the new acquired deformity.
I rubbed some ice
And decided to not speak of my injuries.

The first injury I flaunted here
Was from unwrapping a new knife,
My father realized then
That probably I won't make it alone.
So he then cut off pieces
Of papers and cloth
To place in the closet.
I received in total six major cuts.
The last closet, I arranged by my myself.

The other room in this new house
Made some funny noises,
I checked it out myself
And spoke to my mother after
But I didn't mention it to her.
She doesn't call me in the mornings
To wake me up now,
My father waits till it's eleven,
And my sister during her drive to work.

I start conversations with my brother now,
I see the words we speak same,
And he asks of me.
I have a friend too
I confessed love for
And he did too.
And I am happy,
I declare, I sing.
Yet I have tears on my cheeks.

I do not understand this
I am getting everything
I fought for.
And having it all
I can't help but anticipate
The day it will all be taken away.
Why do I realize now
That happiness isn't real
Only the yearning of the same is.