when my palms still faced
the sky we were songbirds, gold
dusted crescents, diamonds splitting
against marble floor

laughter dances with her lover
liar - they ricochet off the walls;
time has blurred them both into one
and the same

(A.H.Z)

I will cradle your memory in my hands against my heart, and the pulse of it will be warm and soft against my fragile skin. These memories are permanent now; sewn into my bones and intertwined with the very core of my soul. In your silence their voices echo; how you're only one human in this fleeting life when the universe is vast and endless with so many more to meet, but they do not know you like I do, like I did.

If I ever forget the way your hands felt in mine or the way your smile triumphed over the sun's own, I want you to know that I will return to you somehow. Even if the stars misalign and this world collapses into the crevices, even if the end is in sight and my faith trembles with exhaustion, even if the distance between us grows infinitely, forever -

It's always been you,
it will always be you.

(A.H.Z)

I collect mountain ash from your remains
maybe the rising smoke is all I can bear;
but how this shallow water is neck deep
and if I close my eyes now only your
shadow devours me.

(A.H.Z)

youth will drain out of
this skin in waves, and
you come to me in light
light light light, smash
our teeth on collarbones
grooves where knuckle
grows into jaw, sacrifice
love on the cornerstones
when you sing of safety
and a land I have never
reached. when father calls
me daughter and I bleed
split lip syrup thick, two
glazed eyes of the celestial
city passing by push us in
as we pull ourselves out
here, here in between these
fingers in the palm that lies
gapes gasps gasping for
air all for a promise, the
prayers on the tip of my
tongue amen, amen,
amen.

(a.h.z)

I shake this glass as if the motions will bring you back one day. Liqueur slips through my grasp and tequila tumbles down my throat; I can tell you absinthe tastes like liquorice but it is ***** that shoots my highs to heaven. We chase liquids in place of light, but I wonder if it is these trembling hands and the fever bright fog that consumes my mind that makes it all the more harder to let go.

(A.H.Z)

Blackness as the
chasm speaks,
language of silence

I am a cactus in the desert
a locked room of centuries old
but my mind forgot the key
is there nobody at all,
at home?

The shadows are gone
not even they would stay
hello, hello
an echo -
you wave it away

desolate; how
my thoughts
they remind me
only, only, only
one.

(A.H.Z)

death first visited at seven
in the form of endless sleep
ghosting over weathered skin
and phantom hair; hollowing
bones that would creak no more.
they told me that the end was of
peace as we went through oceans
and back, to where the shell of my
grandfather lay.

death later breezed past at nine, when
the faiths started to shift at home and
great grandmother could no longer
remember my face. they told me that
time takes and time heals, but no one
ever spoke of how the flowers in her
garden stopped blooming after she
left us; only the faint hint of musk
and jade helps us remember she
once was here.

death crashed in at eighteen like the
clashing of cymbals and blaring of
horns, when the cells in my uncle's body
multiplied and could not stop. they told us
there was only today or tomorrow, yet in
my heart i knew he would stay forever.
we never speak about how his last breaths
sounded like train wrecks or how his passing
meant weeks of grey; only of how he left
a legacy of love behind and laughter that
could outshine
the sun.

death came unannounced at nineteen as
i watched my dog pass into eternity's slumber.
after fifteen years with her the loss is shattering;
when i close my eyes it is still her salt and pepper
fur between the gaps of my fingers, her happy
barks when we returned home. i never want to
let go, yet i know one day i must -

memory lasts where
life cannot.

(A.H.Z)

you are the fluttering thought
at the back of my mind,
the steady staccato beat of
my pulse, my heart, me

i think i love you the most
when my hands linger in yours;
voice ringing, heart abandoned
we are running, free

you seem so real and yet -
sometimes i forget,
this only lasts as
long as i can
sleep

(A.H.Z)

the moon graces my face,
in the form of a smile
bright and waning crescent
constellations dot the
back of my mind

you have the sun in your eyes
and the sparks of summer
that reflect into the sky
a smirk; the remains of dawn
are light freckles on your skin

it has been a year or two
since i last smiled at you
or you at me; how time passes
and yet doesn't at all

we are the star-crossed and luckless
the lightning and the thunder
if i was paper, you'd be fire
this love is always for
and against us

(A.H.Z)

there are thirteen days left till
the ocean splits us apart
and time swallows our distances,
seconds to minutes to hours
the miles are not as far as our hearts

i would murmur over the sea
of how our losses are bittersweet;
that losing you and letting go wasn't as
hard as i thought it would be -

but sometimes i still miss you
in the spaces between our fingers,
your song has escaped my memory
now that all thoughts run from
instead of to you; stranger
things have happened still

yet i have learnt to accept loss
watch love walk away -
you have and will not stay,
but this time
i will be okay.

(A.H.Z)

i lost and i
love you,
still

the days are
mere seconds,
we are only the
echo of heartbeats

there are silences and
then there is silence,
i have a smile made
for the show

waltz through the steps
rehearse every line -

in these faces i
am only looking
for you

(A.H.Z)

loving you* is being on the highest drop of the tallest roller coaster in the world over and over again, despite being afraid of heights.

missing you is drowning in the depths of the ocean, and never having learnt how to swim.

meeting you was beginning an endless journey that started and ended at its destination; for no matter how far i go, somehow i always find my way back to you.

(A.H.Z)

it moves -
invisible,
almost.

a catalyst after
our own chaos,
I stand in the midst

and the ground
is soft beneath
my feet.

I hear what I cannot see,
feel what you cannot say
the glass rattles,
shatters;

rain smashing against
our hearts -

love was a storm.

(A.H.Z)

for you smell like warmth
and laugh like sunshine
but your eyes are the ocean floor;
dark, unseen and inherently lonely

(A.H.Z)

He will whisper words
and you will hear them.
He will promise things
and you will believe them.
He will be perfection
and you will let go of yourself to mirror him.

He will play with your feelings
and you will fall for him.
He will pull you in
and you will be dragged along.
He will make you happy
and you will love him.

He will anger you
and you will forgive him.
He will hurt you
and you will forgive him.
He will break you
and you will forgive him.
He will destroy you
and you will forgive him.

He will push you away
and you will still return.
He will leave you
and you will still wait.
He will forget you
and you will still remember.

He will stop loving you
and you will never stop loving him.

(A.H.Z)

i cannot seem to form sentences or coherent paragraphs
anymore. my words crash upon each other like waves, only
to crack and fall apart like the earth under our feet. they
stop and go, start and repeat. you took everything of me but
my trembling hands and so i am left to write, or at least
i try; through brokenness so jarring, pale and numb.

alphabets are meaningless. twenty-six letters do not add up
to the way you make everything better and worse, and this
language cannot solve us; none can. i speak three to your two
and yet there are no phrases or similes or metaphors that come
close; sun, moon, stars and all. i only mourn what we could have
had, the possibilities were infinite and of all the endings, here we are.

when words could still flow, i wrote you letters in your absence;
how of all the people possible, you chose me. how years and months
and days of waiting left us stranded and further from each other than
ever before. but you read and will read none, this is certain now.
perhaps forever is certain too, the skin you left me in is hollow.

i want to tell you so much, but i have forgotten
how to speak. i want to write to you, but i have no way to
tell you everything that matters. i forget to form poetry
and prose. a reverse dementia, in which i forget everything
from the beginning except you. maybe we were meant to break,
humans are fragile beings. i love you. i hate you. i miss you.

words fail me, but i can't forget.

(A.H.Z)

we were a whirlwind,
and everyone knew -
i was pale skin, cold bones
to your trembling frame;
teary eyed and warm,
they used to warn me of you
but i sang your praises anyway.

"breathe," you say
and i do, i do, i did
inhale every spark of you
exhaled my own dark,
they used to warn me of you
but i sang your praises anyway.

oh, how i should have listened.

(A.H.Z)

I've been trying to word the infinity that I experienced with you. To condense the moments between my lungs and breathe them onto others, expecting them to experience even a sliver of the spark you gave me. But how does one possibly clasp the invisible between hands, much less the heart?

Scientists say that we live about 80 milliseconds in the past, but they do not know me - I have lived in the past for far longer, flourishing. As far back as days, months and years; I have hidden in my memories in order to stay alive, stay with you.

Even if it takes a lifetime, I will remain.

(A.H.Z)

when you have watched me all my life
and never warned of ashes in the west,
our prodigal son that returns again
my unrepentant lover lies in sallow skin
silhouettes only dance at night


the sun never sets in the east, but china she
screams from the earth when you leave me
wondering if warmth burns like ice or fire
with both hands smiling, you drive it all
a stake through my heart


father, my samson
home is four walls of the lion’s den
mother, my delilah
home is four walls of the lion’s den


all I know is sacrifice.

(a.h.z)

I don’t know how to explain that here I love and love and love with all I am and everything in my heart but I am still, endlessly, not enough. I am the fire you forgot to put out and the words you left unspoken and eventually slipped your mind. I am trying my hardest and I am falling so fast and so high.

-

You keep things inside your head, you keep things inside your heart. Nothing makes sense anymore, but you know one thing - is that you will love even when there is nothing left to love and nothing left of yourself. You will gather the memories and entangle them together in broken figments of shattered time frames and convince yourself this was how it was meant to be, that you were supposed to be.

You will tell yourself that you will be okay even though you are not, and you will believe it.

(A.H.Z)

There are some things you will not understand. I think you need to know that. That there are some things only those who are involved in the situation itself will understand. That no matter how much you try to explain to another they will never really get it. That somehow all the words that fall out of your mouth in prose or poem or story will always feel inadequate, like it was never enough. And maybe it is true, because in so many ways these words, these memories and all the time you spent together were and will always never be enough.

You can't measure memory in the present, only the past. And whoever you're telling only exists in the present. The person you loved exists in your past - a secret place now only you can reach, and in many ways that is enough for you, despite everything now.

Because people don't change in your memories.

They only change now.

(A.H.Z)

be soft, be mellow, be gentle. let the waves wash over you, let the sea foam dissolve your bones. your voice must be a constant whisper, your eyes open and glitter bright. the world will bend you, break you, destroy you; be cautious but never guarded. build walls that are easily penetrable, let your thoughts never pierce, only persuade. the touch you leave behind must be prints and not scars, the smile you radiate must be all sun and never the moon. hear with the intent of hearing, hear but never be heard. move with grace, let your presence be fleeting and enshrouded in shadows.

-

i am the tempest roaring, the quiet after the storm. i house a galaxy between my lungs, constellations dotting the insides of my mind. my thoughts are a labyrinth you cannot even begin to fathom; when i speak thunder rolls, lightning strikes. i will go where the wind calls me, i will illuminate the darkness. my voice is the chimes of bells. be strong, be firm, be swift. the world has tried to break me, but i have never been destroyed. the touch i leave behind burns like fire and soothes like silk, the smile i hold curves like the crescent moon. i hear with the intent of understanding, i speak to be heard. the waves crash beneath my feet and -

i will not apologise for being me.

(A.H.Z)

She barely remembers the first time she receives flowers, a quiet girl of 6 or 7 standing amidst glaring lights in well worn ballet shoes. The faces of the audience in front of her are a blur; all she knows is the mixed rush of relief and gratitude that months of hard work have culminated into a show worthy of standing ovations and teary eyed smiles from proud parents. The flowers aren't even truly for her, she's only a carrier for them - her ballet teacher the true receiver - but she supposes that for a moment before she passes it on she can pretend the bouquet that covers her face entirely is hers, pretend that she warrants the same pride that everyone else seems to have obtained but her.

The second time is slightly different, more memorable only because she's near death (or dead, there isn't really a distinct difference at that point) on a hospital bed with the light filtering in through the blinds. The doctors can't figure out what's wrong so they inject her body with every sort of painkiller imaginable to the human body. She's pretty sure 12 pills in a day accompanied by an anesthetic drip that slows her system to oblivion has to be illegal somehow, but she can't stay awake for more than half an hour at a time to argue so she takes them in anyway. The flowers are a gift, a showcase of love and concern- although from who she really can't recall - and are a welcome addition to the dull palette of the room. They're the first thing she sees when she wakes up and the last thing she sees before she dozes off, and since she miraculously recovers after a grueling 2 weeks of pain she's sure they're magical somehow. "They must be," her mother says, astounded when she listens to her daughter speak, "I didn't see anything there."

The charm hits by the third time she receives flowers, standing face to face with a boy she's only met once but felt too much with, dim lights casting shadows on their figures. She can't hide the shock on her face as he abruptly thrusts the bouquet into her hands, pastel pinks and purples coming into view. This was never part of the agreement - although really, the entire situation was never actually a choice for either of them - and yet somehow a pleasant surprise. As they tumble into the car, she thanks him and asks his reasons for the unexpected gift although she's pretty sure she already knows. "I just wanted to get it for you." He replies, eyes sparkling with something she can't quite name but knows anyway. The rest of the night continues that way, unreal and perfect. She was right, she thinks, a smile slowly making its way across her face; maybe it'll be okay this time. Maybe it'll finally work.

-

There isn't a fourth, fifth or sixth time she receives flowers, but she can tell you the number of times she's experienced heartbreak on the tip of her tongue. She receives it in the same way the petals before have fallen through her fingers, giving her something to feel besides numbing shock. Maybe constant loss is similar to the flowers she has held before in some twisted way; aches blooming in the form of bruised hearts, wilting in the dark, temporary, fleeting.

(A.H.Z)

I often wonder what it feels like
to put you and me together
could we then feel the
tangible beat and sporadic pulse
of hearts waltzing and
dancing to a tempo,
on and on forever?

i often wonder what it feels like
if you were my saviour
and i was a wounded lover
with cuts and bleeding failures
would you bring me back to life then,
with promises and candlelight dinners?

i often wonder what it feels like
for empty spaces to be filled
for the broken to be mended
i wonder and ponder and wander away
though it's you that i come back to
always, in any way

see, you complete my every sentence,
in every poem and every song

you complete me basically
and that has been the truth
forever, all along

(A.H.Z)

how I’ve been reduced to
so little and almost nothing
wandering aimless, nameless
in a sea of so many where I
find myself alone yet again.

(A.H.Z)

the day i wanted to tell you
everything, the words
were stuck in my throat
and refused to come out;
filling the spaces in my lungs
sunlight in place of cigarette smoke.

eyes shifting
unreadable, flickering.
i am okay as long as i am
with you; a smile, the quiet.
truth slipped through our
fingers; flexing, the sound
of nerves audible and
our silence louder.

the day you left, the sky let the
sunset spill into vermillion hues
watercolour painting and i,
alone -

you never said goodbye
yet here i am still
waiting.

(A.H.Z)

gentle petals fall at her feet, and she smiles with the knowledge that she is the real beginning. of spring, of life, of new stories. her hair curls delicately at the ends and she is translucent, limbs pale and blushing red where the blood flows anew. she holds the secrets of lovers now, lovers long past and those to be; understands and celebrates, both alone and with nature. closed eyes, quiet breaths and careful steps, dancing around joy and healing heartbreak. her sun rises in tones of crimson and faded purple, her moon hiding behind whispers of clouds, of storms. the melting of snow under sunlight is her voice, and she moves gracefully, regally.

february paints over january with a wave of her hand, turning the glitter of the new year into subtle glows, the wind and cold into gradual warmth; transitional, beautiful.

(A.H.Z)

I was a shot in the dark and you were a candle burning bright. We were the moon and the sun, water and fire; mirroring parallels that would never get a happily ever after. For years I hoped that perhaps we would be the exception, and in the times I held your warmth and heard your laughter, I truly believed that we were.

But I have come to learn that we are not.

They say that twenty and two represent disorder, light, and here you are with a smile on your lips and the ashes of what could have been collapsing through your fingertips. Sometimes people fall in love only to have it fall apart.

What I’m trying to say is that even though there may be endless ways of celebrating years past and gone, this is something that stands apart from the rest. Once you would sing to me, but that is merely memory now.

In place of the silence, please take this as my song to you.

(A.H.Z)

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt a constant emptiness that lingers as you shake the sleep from your eyes as I have. I hardly get any sleep as it is, nowadays. How I think I think too much and altogether too little, only if I managed to string my words together better I wouldn’t be all loose ends and frayed knots. I’ve wrung my thoughts dry with the weight of my memories to watch the blood drain from my bones; knuckles white and brittle, hollow. They bloom red in my anger, concrete cracking under my skin, peeling in layers till I can’t distinguish my injuries from the chaos. I’m saying all this because I wish you would stay, would’ve stayed - tenses slip past me - but it’s too late now, has forever been too late.

I guess that this is my way of saying I still love you.

I did, I will, I do.

(A.H.Z)

and even on days when i
don’t feel the sadness so strongly
you are still, still,
the base of my thoughts

in the midst of a storm
in the grass before the dawn
how the little things
remind me of you -
yet the memories i keep
can only quell the lonely
for so long

i dream and dance upon
the figments of fading scars,
tear old wounds open
find you in the chaos

for i cannot let you go
and i cannot let anyone in
i miss you far too much
and i love you all the same

(A.H.Z)

I have loved you like this, with wide eyed glassy gaze and star struck wonder. The universe at our feet and the sky in our hands; weightless with the anticipation of a rose tinted future. Euphoria is dizzying. Even now I still hear your laughter, it resounds in my head when the silence is too loud.

I have loved you like this, with hollow eyes and a washed out frame. In those days no words fell past weak lips, only tears that trembled with exhaustion and a blank gaze that held no light. Emptiness is all consuming. I remember the void expanding further than ever before, spilling between flesh and bone.

I have loved you like this, with careful steps and controlled poise. Electric tension in the air, practiced smiles. “Hello, how are you?" and "Fine, thank you." The corners of our eyes crease, down-turned crescent moons set firmly in place; arms loosely hanging by our sides. Evading you is like running from wildfire. Our efforts were futile anyway, suppressed emotions burning from the inside.

I love you like this now, with quiet glances at old photographs and the replaying of my memories. There’s no one to fill the gaps you’ve left, but over the years I have learnt to bandage old wounds and heal these scars. To pick myself up from where you’ve left me, to learn to put one foot in front of the other despite the pain. Loss is strange. Even now, when the storms rage on, I can still hear you whispering “I’m here, it’ll be okay.”

-

I loved you -

No,

I love you.

(A.H.Z)

I am no poet if
you cease to be my poem.
And I am no singer,
if you cease to be my song.

This is why I
carry your memory,
in the hollows of my bones,
where blooming flowers grow.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
yet all these words
always lead me back to you.

(A.H.Z)

one day we will sit on the rooftops when the sun washes her last lights over us. on that day we will find ourselves awake when the world starts to sleep; amongst the quiet bristling of leaves and under the blanket of night we will trace the constellations in the sky with arms high and heart abandoned. our smiles will mimic the crescent moon, and you will sing that special song when the euphoria in your body hits a crescendo. we are but passing moments, and although i know this i will etch your voice into my bones, pretending that each symphony has no end, that all melodies are ceaseless. as your laughter causes the last notes to fade off into the dark, my own voice will echo yours –

this is forever.

-

“it has been years, and yet you still…”

she only laughs in reply.

“time means nothing.”

(A.H.Z)

I carved you out of marble and stone
but I think it is midas in your blood
and the back of my hands are bruised
from all the years I’ve tried to let go


you still own me without even trying
my tongue is tied in cherry knots
when they told me to soften the
centre to make it easier to swallow,
but then they did not know you


the sea is black with all the blood I’ve spilt
and distance only amplifies the pain, when
where I am only requires liquid luck to
get to where you are; the spirits, they kiss
my eyelids and paint our past gold


the same years that destroyed me glorify
you. you. you. you. the mantra in my
head, the miracle that rose again you
measure each pulse in my blood as I
repent


of the one I have loved so much more
than all of those who came before, yet
you know I never drink with the intention
of leaving, only of love –


only for you.
 
(a.h.z)

I. beyond us the sky stretches far past the horizon, fading shades of crimson bleeding into violet as the sun sets. “the world is full of infinite wonder,” I whisper, tracing ancient runes onto your skin. “and so are you.” the corners of your mouth break into a smile, and silently you maneuver the sheets till we’re eye to eye. “only for you,” you reply, and my answering laughter echos in the room.

II. in the morning the sun rises in bursts of gold, light dispelling the shadows in gradients of honey. the gentle hum of rustling trees cannot drown out the steady staccato beat of our hearts, legs tangled and fingers entwined. in my dreams I mumble your name, and as I wake to your warmth I slowly realise home is a feeling and not a place. “you are the moon,” you begin, “and you are the sun.” I end, sleep clinging to our voices in unison.

III. the edges of my letters to you are stained with tears, ink bleeding in places where the paper has yellowed with time. your gaze is a question, but I only push the box nearer towards you. “for all the times I missed you, and for all the times I couldn’t reach you.” I respond quietly. you spend the rest of the week reading each one, brows furrowed in concentration. at the end of it all I receive a silent apology, closed eyes and forehead against mine. I feel the words said more than I hear them; three words to carry us through the remainder of this life - I love you.

(A.H.Z)

I would have told you of how there are seas beneath this skin, how there's a storm inside that never ends, how despite it all there's a light within me that never goes out.  

Of how the ocean whispers in my ears as the voices submerge, how I'm put together by broken promises and shattered dreams, how I've drowned in alcohol for nights just to forget.

Of how I balance these fragile smiles amidst the pain, how I've mastered the way to make tear stains on my face disappear by morning, how I wanted to never wake up from that night with you.

Of how you took me home,
but wouldn't be home for me.

(A.H.Z)

my eyes are white, grey
concrete, and you wonder
how these hands still move

when everything cracks and
cracks, when the echo of your
voice reduces all to ash

they unravel, these knots,
this mind, i think -

no, no more.

(A.H.Z)

I. you took all the words I could never pronounce and slipped them to me under the roof of my mouth. yet with time even stone erodes under water, and earth gives way to its core. a cave, a house; the idea of ‘us’ dwindled down to nothing but thin smoke, fumes rising from burning fire wood. as the flowers bloomed in spring, only your shadow took the place besides mine.

II. un deux trois, the numbers slip off my tongue in unfamiliar curves, a lilting curl in an accent too foreign for mine. perhaps we have always been strangers, born from the gap in adam’s ribs and the silhouette of eve’s body. dust to dust they wash and repeat; mantras ticking like metronomes atop grandfather’s piano. the melody still plays even though he is gone, paradise calling him far, far away.

III. she barely reaches my chest, small hands tugging at the edge of my shirt. her eyes are focused, brows furrowed in concentration. ghosts remain forever familiar; we have shared the same face, known the same pain. as my gaze glosses over the crumpled sheets and red pens strewn across the floor, she trembles against me. i reply the only way i know how, dropping to my knees and embracing her. as she begins to fade away, the truth rings in our ears, loud and clear – we both turn out okay, i promise, i promise.

(a.h.z)

i kiss the line where
shore meets sea,
and pray for the tide
to swallow us
whole

tell me when
my eyelids close
for yours open then -

when sirens sing of
babylon's lovers, all
i can think of is
you.

(A.H.Z)

July was fantastical. I was always struck speechless when she smiled.  Her loose limbs used to flail in mid-air as she danced in circles around me. She’d do this routine – a spin once, twice, and then a graceful fall to the floor; knees pressed against the earth. The breeze would start to change as she fell, the scent of grass, rain and sunlight wafting through the air. It smelt of home, the forest. July, she was breath-taking. The calendar said we had 31 days left every year and I think that’s what made her so different. That she knew she wouldn’t last past the summer and live to see autumn. Sometimes I still hear her laughter as an echo in the place I hold so dear.

-

When December comes visiting, she tells me July was only a dream.

“But you have 31 days too.” I argue.

“Time is always longer in the cold,” December replies. “It makes summer seem like it never existed.”

I always laugh when she says this because I know the truth – every end is merely a new beginning.

(A.H.Z)

eventually this will all be a shot in the heart, a fading noise in the dark. I have wandered and wondered for years now but to no avail; the past weighs in as an avalanche and the only anthem I can recall holds no melody, no song. in dreams I am merely asleep, in life I only exist. there's a place where empty hearts go, they say, of a valley shrouded in shadows where ice flames flicker and nothing grows. I wish I could tell you that I was strong enough, immortal even, to avoid such a fate; yet in the soul of my soul we both know that there are some things from which one cannot escape.

the only love I know feels like this, thunderstorms, warm hands and piercing silence. of passing glances and wilting flowers. even silence is a noise, some will tell you, and they are right. there are scars in my core that bandages cannot heal, that time cannot take away. how quiet people become in the face of those they cannot save. how little our lives mean on the grander scale of things. with every inhale I imagine that the universe must be consuming me from within; perhaps one day I will finally be able to forget it all.

I wonder if you still remember me from time to time.

(A.H.Z)

these scars
of when you
consumed me
inward, outward
and I could only

watch as the skin hollowed,
sinking to pull fingers apart
tendon from bone, ashes;
flesh dripping through the
cavity where a heart once
grew

yet we know; I know
when the ground shakes
and my vision fades it will
still be you who brings me
back to
life

(A.H.Z)

these crisscrossing streets
were once ours, our screaming
neon, the dazzling infinite
lights but time

she weaved
herself between
the clench of my fist
in the shape of his
absence, that grows,
grows

blood only
multiplies while we
splutter, incoherent
with the clarity -

your heart,
it does not beat
for me anymore.

(A.H.Z)

words are not enough
I can tell you the imprint
of our scars are intertwined,
locked and I have fallen for
so many so fast at once

they spill out, ricochet off
the edge as my vision blurs
waterfalls rushing through
corners of my eyes

one day I will tell you all
the words I cannot say
tear open this cage and
let this beating heart
bleed

remember in its place
my soul now sings
a song that goes on
and on forever –

love.

(a.h.z)

Maybe if I smelt less like vanilla and more like thunder you’d still be here. The flow of my hair is a tangle of flowers and berries with names we both can’t pronounce, but yours always left the scent of home and sunlight behind. I know the tips of my fingers still taste like strawberries and the words that left your tongue dripped like honey. That you felt like static, moved like lightning and I was always in awe; the time you draped me in roses and called me yours, the time you told me my name in your mouth reminded you of only the best things. Maybe if I wasn’t who I am, maybe if you weren’t who you were. Maybe if the footprints I leave behind weren’t made of silence, maybe if the moments we made weren’t littered with scars -

I will always wonder why God decided to take you away from me.

(A.H.Z)

I'll write forever
just to get to
where you are

words are steps
sentences are bridges
if paragraphs are boats
may this poem fly
me to
you

(A.H.Z)

if our paths met again
a string of red will take its
place, crimson and bleeding
god once spoke and then
there was us

tell me everything over
these star bright scars
how in one hand these
constellations spark
light, and in the other
the orbits glow forever

water recedes in these
lungs, the sea she knows
watch our moon wane
here I will be the shore
give my all when the
tide takes

(a.h.z)

mama, he's a wonder though
see him seek my touch from
ice to flames, heaven to hell
and back again

mama, what do i do
his gaze ignites, firelight
in the depths of my heart
buried within ash from
all those years ago

mama, you never warned me
these shadows return in guises;
legends say there were ten suns
till they shot down nine but

isn't it funny how
i'm left with
none?

(A.H.Z)

I am sorry that you wished for spring and
ended up with summer. How I only feel
bones and not the warmth you desperately
want to show me. That at night you pray
for my peace but come morning I am only
a marionette that resembles the fading ember
of father's cigarettes. How I cannot bear to step
out of this house; the ghosts will devour
me if I do, both inside and out. The skin
upon my soul cracks and cracks; like the
pavement you fell in when you broke your
feet. The time you told me to feel less, to stop
blaming myself; I am sorry for that too, that
I have tried and I cannot. Perhaps one day I
will manage to breathe without choking on
all the silences I cannot word, perhaps one
day I will be able to sleep without death on
the precipice. I am sorry I am the moon and
not the sun for you, that my sister radiates
light and I only reflect it. I have half your mind
and the full sum of your smile, but if only my
voice would remain as calm as yours when you
deal with misery, maybe I would finally learn to
be okay.

(A.H.Z)

here my smile unravels at the seams
curving against the spines of my ribs
and oh i, wish i could mean more but
concrete only bends beneath my bones

watch what dances across these glassy eyes
the skin on my face melt, melts, melting
chaos dark matter toxic waste cursed, those
batteries father threw out when i was five

the same year we moved away when
oceans tore home into two, and split
the land apart almost as cleanly
as you do, did, are doing to me

(A.H.Z)