my birthday falls on father’s day...
how poetic

for a man
who gave me life
but never showed me how to live it

and when he came back
he still wasn't really there

he doesn't like who i am
as if love should come with conditions

i learned how to raise myself
from the ruins they left behind

funny...
how father’s day reminds me more
of what i survived than what i celebrate

I am going through something,
Something that feels like nothing,
A smile hides it well,
But eyes always tell,
Body wants to lie down
on fluffy clouds,
Soul wants to elope and shout,
Heart wants to drown,
Mind whispers sins-
Urges me to commit fouls,
But Heart howls:
"JUST DROWN",
I am going through something,
Even forgetting to breathe

Silenced
Silence can be the loudest
It says the most
Like a ghost
It also has a story
This silence
It’s overwhelming
The calm before the storm
Then the question
Why was I born
The silence is now quiet
No answer
But your eyes speak
Those haunting eyes
Daunting
Avoiding
Avoiding me
Why
Silence

I don’t know who I am without Woe.
She’s been my other half—
The sincere and attentive arm.
Her body feels familiar to lay with:
The curves of her back,
The curly black hair—
They feel like home now.

It’s hard now to smile.
When I do—it’s scary.
I prepare for the earth to swallow me whole.
She flows through me,
Delicate, quiet, and lethal.
The sunflowers look the other way,
And mountains become stones.

I don’t know who I am without Woe.

My parents didn’t raise me like this.
The boy who kissed me didn’t know.
I’m married to her now—
She is my one true love.

My baby, I am scared to watch you try
And fail.
Maybe I will **** her tonight,
Or poison her each time you talk to me.
She’ll die a little with your songs.
She’ll die a little with my walks.
She has to die either way.

Her bad mood
Tries to intrude
On conversation,
On laughter

Her lack of power
Compels her to cower
Behind a false sense
Of tyrannical control

Her own home and head
Never gave sanctuary; instead
They fostered hostility
And made her feel blind

Blind when searching for
Places with an open door
With a place to lie down
And to quiet all sound

She’s fighting herself inside
Can’t say she never tried
When the battle leaves her mind
And infects the entire family line

My bad mood
Tends to intrude
On conversation,
On laughter

And I’m sorry
But I learned it from you

To the girls who grew up too fast,
now women who cling to hopes of magic,
I'd like to propose a toast and raise a glass-
the reality we escape from is tragic.

Whether your vision is a knight or prince,
or even a jester at times,
I want you to know I feel less alone,
drinking tea and reading your rhymes.

To the ones who whisper to stars at night,
who still make wishes when clocks strike eleven- eleven,
we may not have fairytales etched in gold,
but we scribble our own versions of heaven.

To the ones who carry too much weight,
and still find time to dream,
here’s to healing in fragments and poems,
and patching our hearts at the seams.