#personalpoem
Clink, clink. Plain, soft water.
I drown more than I drink.
“You say I am selfish.”
Smoke from steamed rice
fades away like a battle ring.
The spice in your words I must swallow.
Too much spice , my head spins.
The glass chandelier feels too narrow.
My name on my plate, I carved,
fading because some cutlery
felt too sharp.
“You retort I am greedy,
always in want, always needy.”
My mind flies to the sky,
beyond the burning stars.
My ears sound like a flatline
as I swallow the hot gravy.
A passing bell rings in rhythm.
My plate is blurred, way too thin.
People laugh at my face,
say my looks do not match
our family DNA race
fair skin, silky hair.
My fork clatters, my shoulders sag.
Generational beauty I lack.
Plate, plate
fit in like bread.
Will I get dinner if I am late?
Someone chimes on my fate,
telling the little ones,
“Don’t be like your sibling
mess is all she can make.”
My lip trembles before I can blink,
searching for a spoon,
tasting, retching, spoon by spoon.
On the chair, I can’t fall apart.
I am dusty like an old cupboard,
when people wish not to see you long.
How can you pick up the broken plate?
Wishing for dinner alone, yet no place you belong?
“You must swallow. You have to.
Don’t be ungrateful.
Such a bad child , shameful.”
Keep it inside until
it comes out as rain
when you must return here again.
Heavy breakfast, seasoned with pain.
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 9:35 AM UTC
I asked for petals. They gave me thorns.
I didn’t complain. Didn’t protest.
Just pressed them into my palms
and let the pain sit there
because what else can I do but accept
I asked for a home. And got walls that didn’t care if I stayed.
Rooms that swallowed my voice whole.
A mother whose hands used to tuck me in
now they just tremble, now they just throw things,
now they just forgot how to hold me.
I asked for a father.
He left his shadow behind, but not himself.
I still set the table for him.
Still listen for the sound of his footsteps.
Still wonder if he knows I am disappearing
into the spaces he abandoned.
I asked for love, but no one looked at me long enough
to see the cracks forming beneath my skin.
No one noticed when I stopped crying,
when I stopped asking for anything at all.
I asked for petals.
They gave me thorns.
And when they saw me wearing them like a crown,
they finally realized
I had stopped feeling the pain a long time ago. (Not that they cared at all)
May 10, 2025
May 10, 2025 at 2:32 PM UTC
I used to idolize you
And I could never believe
You would deliberately hurt me
You didn't mean it
It wasn’t your fault
A million excuses
Exchanged for a million bruises
That lined my skin
In semi-permanent remembrance
of you
Five years later
I can still see those black and blue marks
That once blotted my skin
But now I am awake
And no longer oblivious
To your lies
5 years of slumber
1,825 days
Or 43,800 hours
And even 2,628,000 minutes
Of being blind to you
But the mathematics do not matter
Because you do not measure
Pain the same way
You measure time
Finally speaking, 5 years later
After being silenced by my own mind
Trapped by the fear that no one
Would understand
Let alone care
5 years of being scared and afraid
Like an animal
Who was hit too many times
Only because I was too ignorant
To run from what I thought
Was love
And now it has been three days
Since his return
Old wounds have resurfaced
5 years worth of scars
Of bruises
Of horrible, horrible memories
All oppressed by my notion
Of what love really was
I can feel my skin become tender
From where you used to abuse
Your power
But the difference now
Is that I am strong
I am not measly
Nor weak
And I will never cower
Below your shadow again
5 years of recovery
And torture and pain
But now I can live
The rest of my life
An eternity with an infinite
Amount of possibilities
Because I am not scared
Not anymore
Because after 5 years of being weak
I arise from my hibernation
And come out courageous
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC