She bites her fingernails in math class
The numbers have always been a dancing cacophony of
confusion.
She was dyslexic
and the vignette of her vision were all the things
she couldn’t understand—
even when she wanted to.

Her lips weren’t the kind poets would write about either.
They weren’t soft, and red like cherry,
they weren’t velvety—
they were always chapped.
They were never inviting.
She’s grown so fond of peeling
the skin off until they bled
out the silhouette of anxiety
washing her insides
causing external decay.

But there was no external decay in coloring
outside the lines.
In 1st grade her teacher had told her
that maybe something was wrong with her—
but maybe its the unfolding of protest
in the early days.
Where little me believed that
things do not have to be perfect to be beautiful—
to deserve to be seen as art.
There’s poems you could write about
at the sight of coffee stained sheets
or faulty flickering streetlights
or collected dust that had found home in book shelves in bedrooms.
The little things that counted
were the little things that kept the flame alive.
Maybe the sun doesn’t shine for us,
but the world in its vastness conforms to the reality
that there are beautiful things in life
we are still yet to discover—
nestled in between the cracks we don’t step on.

In church she cracks her knuckles.
She found god more in navigating through life
and survival from mishaps
as opposed to sitting on a pew and
being told about how she could go to hell.
And in the lightest of days
she hums.
She hums along the rhythm of the abstract and imperfect structure of life.
Which brings us back to the hero's shoulders
and the gentleness that comes,
not from the absence of violence and misery in the world,
but despite the abundance of it.

- mgv

The wild grass lives only for your sight

For your unreserved love and care

For the shadows in your every step

For the light in the black of your eyes


The ripples in the lake live only for your dreams

Your life tumultuous and bare

For the wrinkles in your soul

And the weariness in your countenance


The old dog at the old place live only for your loneliness

For your tears

For your cry in the silence

As it licks away the bitterness in your existence


Yet, you love not them-

They are always there,

Simple, undecorated,

Pebbles to the gold-

But wilder, greater aspirations


With the mountains in your eyes,

You won’t see the dandelions

Will they still be there

Without your sunshine, earth and rain

That showed me my place

And taught me what it is to be alive


With the waves in your eyes

You won’t see the ripples of a single stone

Will they still be there

The seedlings growing within

The fish swimming in between

That showed me I was not empty

As you lit up the world within me


With every being in your eyes

You won’t see the old dog howling in pain

Will it still be there

The life within its loyal eyes

The laughter running free and wild

The shelter, The love, and every breath

That showed me my purpose of being

As you led me down the path I’d never stray


You will not know

You will not see


Yet, I’m certain

When you return

Danced your dance

And weary of pleasing those that will love you

Your beauty, timely, sparingly, and conditionally


They will still be there

Waiting for your return


For, even when you were chasing everything

Because you thought that they had nothing

You were, are, and will always be

Their everything.

I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet

I love cats,
They always tell the truth.
If they don’t love you
They won’t pretend.

smell of woods
as the breeze blew
canopies of trees
covering the forest
like an umbrella
beams of light seeping through
through the gaps it shines
like the trees are covering
what is hidden behind