#openingup
I.
my lips
sewed together
with perfectly stitched thread
through thin needle holes
the wounds
still wounds
not healed
over the years
the daily torture
of wanting to speak
but not being able
to tell
II.
my hands
shaking
excessively clinging
to the thin rubber band
my voice
trembling
as i try to unwrap
one syllable after another
the aching in the throat
as i try to describe
in as little detail
the things i went through
III.
as soon
as the words
left my mouth
almost as silent
as a short breath
i leave
the room
you sitting there
trying to grasp
what i had just coughed up
and disappeard
directly after
realizing i actually did
IV.
i am nowhere
and everywhere
at once
i am there again
you try to unwrap
the tangled words
the things unsaid
the thoughts not spoken
i slip out of reality
and suddenly
i hear you say
loud and clearly
"It was not your fault. It never was and it never will be."
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 2:39 PM UTC
it is beautiful
it is majestic
and it is guileful
and is eccentric
a speck on the tower of wall
that bridges and connects
two different enthralls
even fate dare not object
i was on its foot,
for i sought to grasp
and tried to peek
on the place it leads
i listen to the jarring echoes
the other side is full; a chaos
it seems, but i felt solace
in its mournful yet soulful melody
i heard words that are familiar
those that i chose to blur
in my being for a long strife
that i dwell to keep inside in an eternity
i ought to release the beautiful words
that is long chained
i long to feel the majestic emptiness
and sense the other side that is zestful
and clutch onto its empathetic possibilities
only if it bridges to a multitude,
only if perspective it will connect,
only if it is not unchained,
only if it is opened.
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 7:17 PM UTC
Or not until the changes of seasonal events reach out towards that very flower with a creepily chill in mind. Something that gives it a chance to open up (when it least expects it).
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 12:41 AM UTC
Fragile leaves blossomed and spread
Revealing the sweets that lie in my bed
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 1:12 AM UTC
you trap me
in-between your arms,
telling me all about a secret
you have buried
underneath your tongue
for months now,
but kindness
is the only part
of me that manages
to escape from your grip.
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 2:41 AM UTC
A messy mind
Inside and out
Reminders of the past
Earthquakes , car crashes,
Physical fights and emotional abuse
Like a sneaky bite
From a mosquito or an ant
You don’t see it happen
It hurts as soon as you realise
But it soon disappears
Never to be thought of again
Unless you scratch it too much,
Make it bleed and enlarge
It’s the trauma
I try not to scratch
Pretend it never happened
So I don’t tell others
As soon as I speak out loud
It’s as if I’m bitten again
The poison rises up
To the surface of my skin
And I scratch so hard
At something that is not there
Yet it still hurts
And bleeds, grows
Bigger and bigger
Eventually maturing
Into a visible scar
Then all secrets are lost
No longer concealed
Festering upon the mess
An absolute abomination
Inside this mind
Of mine
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 2:36 PM UTC
One of the worst things I could have done
Is blame you for all of the things you couldn't have known.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
Forgetting that you too, are human.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
Knowing all of the things that I keep from you.
I realized my mistake only when it was too late.
Revealing to you all the things that I thought you knew.
The things you couldn't have known.
How your name drives me insane soon as I hear it.
Staring across from you embracing every moment.
These things not often said not knowing how you'd react.
If you'd really see how important you are
One of the worse things I could have done.
Separating these same feelings in the blink of an eye.
Not knowing if you truly felt the same as I.
Twisting myself in half not realizing how whole you made me.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
I love the way you look at me.
The nonchalant way you'd often speak.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
How I crumble at the chance I didn't pull you closer.
Too few gaps left to fill.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
All of the things I wanted to do.
All of the things I wanted to say.
The weight of cookies that sit on a shelf.
Often suffocate while no one watches
Never knowing the feeling of being in love.
They often crumble
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:09 AM UTC
this is me
handing you the key
to the closet i've
stored all my
skeletons.
this is me
handing you the keys
to my
safe haven.
•|||°
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 9:25 PM UTC
Conversations can occur in many ways.
Many the conception of one thing, used to justify another.
It tends to happen more commonly if not at all.
A certain honesty revealed.
In the consideration of intimacy
Without coming across as too overbearing.
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel,
Sometimes trapping ourself in the thought of someone else's happiness.
Obvious truths overlooked when the normal reaction is the total opposite.
The latter, already knowing how we'd like to be valued, received.
We express ourselves the same way.
Not truly knowing how it's to be received.
Obvious truths automatically assumed when true intention is revealed.
Instead we seek validation through a smile, a laugh.
Part of ourself hidden.
A habit of not wanting to project what we feel we lack.
Overvalued on whether or not happiness is then assumed,
Instead of saying how we truly feel.
We normally put ourselves on hold.
Fearing that our mouths may differ in opinion,
that how we truly feel.
May not be what the other person expects, or wants to hear.
Further putting ourselves at confrontation with what we truly feel.
Not truly knowing the risk that comes with how much we truly love
And how much sacrifice is required.
How often we express our likes and dislikes
How often do they go ignored
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 8:25 AM UTC
the doc said,
"try to trust people
more. show them that
you care. tell them
how you feel."
to which i agreed.
maybe, it will
help me.
clear my head.
fix me.
by letting others
see, just how broken i am
and allow them to
try and put
me back.
the next day i said,
"ma. wanna read
my poems?"
she said,
"im busy honey, maybe later."
i never asked again.
and she forgot.
i never went back to doc,
and my mom still
thinks i hate her.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
it's so hard for me
to open up,
but once i do,
i can't stop,
and people don't mind
stepping all over me,
so i build yet another wall
around me,
and opening up becomes
a mission not even Tom Cruise can make possible.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:19 AM UTC
"Dear poetry, allow me to offload my heavy burdens onto your shoulders.
You're the only safe place I know.
Allow me to strip naked; allow me to stand vulnerable and real before you.
You are the only safe place I know."
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
I want honey and fresh roses at my doorstep but only from you. Is it wrong that I don’t want to be loved by anyone but you? I’m afraid I’ll get hurt again because the last boy with curly brown hair left me in the dirt for me to swallow pain meds and anxiety pills just to make it through. I'm sorry if I’ll never again be able to open up to love again as I did with him, I don’t want you to turn into a stranger who holds my darkest secrets. I want you to love me like rainbows after a storm and soft kittens cuddling up to say goodnight. I want you to love me. Love me.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
And like a stone I fell.
Nothing quite the same.
Knowing stillness, I paced myself.
Falling fast.
Head first.
The best thing I've known.
It's not so bad.
Falling.
The fear of crashing, crumbling into pieces.
This seems the way to go.
Missing the experience that brought fear to life.
Stubborn.
Like a stone.
These cobwebs thrown to the wind.
Finding each breath more desirable than the next.
A feeling that I've waited for.
Sitting still.
Like a rock.
Afraid to fly.
Until you came along.
Shattered into a million pieces.
The expectation of anything else.
Without need to hide your hand
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
When I walked in I didn't know what to expect.
Each room highlighted in light.
A oral tradition. To make ourselves at home upon request.
In reciprocation we do.
The rooms we gather in, the ones we walk past.
The objects we fill to take up space.
The rooms a clear reflection of Spring.
The molding painted white.
I was told that some rooms are not to be visited.
Everything has it's season and this isn't one of them.
Placing blame on the rooms.
I want to explore them most I said.
The ones that go unseen.
The things we rarely shine light to.
The places films of dust continue to grow.
These are some of the best places to go.
The beauty of things we walk past day to day.
The smile unknown destinations can bring.
Cultivating the ideas we keep cluttered.
Gasping for air.
These are the rooms I want to explore most.
The parts of you that you strictly keep to yourself.
Only when you are comfortable to share these rooms with me.
To kiss the floor with our feet.
To dwell in the past staring into our future.
We are the pendulums trapped inside the clock
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
And some day you'll realize
That there too is a point of no return.
A point where you'll someday come
And looking back will be a thing of the past.
There are no layaways no payments plans
To genuinely be a blessing in someone else's life.
These things can't be repaid.
Can't be debated.
These gifts of appreciation.
Life is one of the most unexplained mysteries.
In a world of simplicity.
We often shy away from the things we know will break us.
Not knowing that its the vulnerability that truly makes us beautiful.
At times we get uncomfortable.
Considering that the simplest thing is often the hardest thing.
And some day you'll realize.
That it's these precious moments.
That bring us closer to that point of no return.
Your reflection shown.
The candle of someone else's eye.
No longer afraid to look back
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
Sitting on that roof with you terrified me. It wasn’t the idea that I was sitting on the edge, seven stories from the ground or even the idea that if I did fall I would instantly die. No, that did not scare me at all. What scared me was you, sitting there across from me. The feelings I have for you as I am sitting there seem way more frightening to me than actually falling to my death. I am unable to get my head around how irrational my fears are at that time. It would seem that the easier solution for me would be to make myself fall from that roof right then and there than to fall for you.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
Upon reading I stopped.
Savoring this touch.
I serached for narrative, your voice becoming my imagination.
I made this read much longer than intended.
Rereading each page minutes after the initial first.
We both paused.
Stumbling over each period.
Passage after passage the last chapter revealing just how beautiful everything is.
With neither joy or pain canceling each other out, both are necessary.
A paper cut made in haste.
Just as telling.
The intense angle each word represents.
The physical manifestation of not being able to move my eyes from the page.
Loud noises created in silence.
It seems real. Its chaos.
Four seasons coming into one.
This is life.
At least for me.
Rereading each volatile word finding vulnerability.
A sudden fear that rises.
A response that I over analyze in simplicity.
You write and I read.
A deeper motivation that isn't fear at all.
The pages collapsing in recommendation.
The intimate truth of holding everything in.
The cover hesitant of letting go.
All awaiting permission
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
But now we can communicate.
I am not sure what cause this sort of block.
Under normal circumstances I suppose it's human.
To access so much of ourselves mentally.
Yet physically remain mute.
An attempt to be funny. Charismatic.
To yearn the manifestation of being represented such as a memory.
For some it's easy. It becomes culture.
Ignoring this association of fear.
Although slight. We begin to judge ourselves.
In fight beyond a couple of seconds that leads to bliss.
The things that have yet developed.
The possibility that things may not.
But definitely something is there. Reflected from the light of eyes.
Self doubt in light of holding back.
Yet we've evolved.
We've evolved into a splitting image of what we adorn.
The critique of what eyes see & what ears have heard.
We've thought in different ways of what binds.
Now we communicate.
To better service our needs, our wants.
We've binged them all.
Knowing all of our favorite parts, to speak hesitantly about the bad.
We recite them only in private.
Ignoring the kick backs and *** lucks that begin with pleasure.
It begins with the closed culture of what feels foreign
to no longer recite in mental.
Now we communicate
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
I find humor laughing at how far we've come.
The differences seen out right between you and I.
Creating the shortcut separating us both.
Risking more distance. Taking that one proverbial step.
I laugh because of absolute generosity.
Placing different pieces of myself in you.
An extreme amount of disposition, watching our shadow take the step of paused feet.
Considering the first step, moving closer to you.
Doing the utmost in sincerity. Discovering that through true expression
you are me and I am you.
The parts of ourself that we keep hidden.
Still troubled.
Finding new ways to be completely honest.
Why not laugh, sharing whats felt on the inside.
Choosing instead the shortcut that sits right in front of us.
Short conversation that deny us both of how we truly feel.
A motivation found in the utmost of sincerity.
No longer pretending. Putting on a front that we see each other for who we truly are.
We see it clear as day but it's funny because we choose to ignore it.
Choosing instead to see what we choose.
Choosing instead to dwell in the past, finding reason to take a step back.
Letting our shadow dissipate.
Taking hold of how we truly feel.
Putting that selfish part of ourselves first.
A lack of communication no longer sincere in motion.
Not realizing that we're back to where we started
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC