leaving a place is heavy
as heavy as carrying an ocean of memories
you do not know which to leave behind
so you keep them all-
every single memory
of you.

warm salt water
runs down my cheeks
onto my chin
and drips away.

One tear drop at a time,
I remember
I hold onto
I want to dive into
our time, us,
backwards.

Something comes loose inside,
gives way to a tide that has been dormant,
every emotion
that you gave me
comes alive

The familiarity and yet strangeness
breaks me into pieces.
I fall apart,
crumbling into cascading.

sometimes i drink tea as a substitute for your hugs
almost desperately sipping,
wishing, hoping,
dreaming of you (holding onto my ceramic cup so delicate)

sometimes loneliness creeps in like a stealth burglar
when you realize what it is you freeze,
suddenly too aware of yourself
but pretending it doesn't exist to cushion yourself from
these ugly emotions
who, like old fake friends whom i try to alienate,
i hide from, trying to mask myself by emulating
everything i love

in the hopes of becoming something beautiful,
something you might love.
(pour myself another cup,
dream on)

I think I want to believe in people
And the magic that our bones hold,
We are brittle but we breathe
I have taken breath day in and day out
I don’t know how.

I think I want to believe in humanity
And the togetherness of bonding over our most obvious shared physicality
We are human.

here i sit and memories swarm out in front of me
unwinding moments which come undone
they have been tucked away tightly
until now

i pick up scents of have-beens
i close my eyelids and i remember
i dance with you again in yesterdays of the past
reminiscing is sweet

sometimes i dream of the past
i try and tell you all the yearnings of my heart
with my eyes
try to warn of the tragedy that is inevitable

at the end of these wandering golden dreams
which only last for seconds
you look at me one last time,
i try to hold your beautiful hand,
try to keep you with me longer,
you tell me with your eyes
and i hear you
i can hear you leaving me
all over again

is simply to believe
that some thoughts
are so beautiful
that they could not
not be shared.

my hands are made of natural things
maybe i am only blood and bones
made to last only shortly
quickly slowly dying

all the colours of the world won't fill me
I long for emotions of gold
for an ice cold ocean
raindrops to break the cycle

searching for your earrings on his earlobes
memories embroidered everywhere
on my walls are pictures and meanings
I try to nurture flowers from my flesh

maybe I should stop writing poetry for you anyway
you don't get my symbols
no matter how obvious the metaphors
your ears will not listen.

You're my moon.

my tea has gone sour overnight
the stars must have mixed with milk
dreams dancing into my two white pillows
why does night slip away so suddenly

tones of sadness find me early morning
I try to unsap my fatigue and fall
stumbling into the room where we keep our food
which keeps us alive

sip my new fresh tea from my country
red and warm and hugging
I miss the accents of my land
craving something familiar (like you) but not

maybe we are all so incurably alone
spinning around this globe individually
unstoppable in solidarity
maybe this was how it was meant to be.