Someone once asked me,
“What did you do
to become a poetess?”

I said,"nothing.
I only broke the dam of emotions
I had built over the years.

The flood of emotions
themselves turned
into poems
and I became
a poetess."
(I have my doubts)

i watch her
put on makeup every day

not to look prettier
but to cover the sadness

she thinks i don’t see it
but i do—
her smile stops at her eyes

these days have been heavy
she stays in the bedroom
i hide in other rooms

someone has to move first
maybe the cure is in
taking off our masks
sharing cheap wine by the fire
talking nonsense
instead of pointing fingers

i know we can talk
without shouting

we can start again
as if it were
our first date

i learned too late
your love
was a poisoned apple

i still don’t know
if you are
the witch
or the devil

wanting you
is a crime
and i
am the guilty one

your truths
drip with lies
a wolf
in sheep’s skin

modern romance
teaches us
to cheer for villains

so i let myself
be robbed
killed
destroyed

fine
you’re the devil

I feel I’ve hurt many people.
All of them,
with trembling voices,
show me
I might be on the wrong path.

But as my friend said—
everyone has their own journey.

Maybe those I’ve despised
are the ones I need to make peace with.
And maybe those
who stood by my side
are the ones I’ll have to hurt.

Because it’s not about them—
it’s about me.

Not depending on anyone
but myself,
my opinion,
my belief
in what I know
to be right.

I am an Eeyore

Trying to be a Tigger

But I usually wind up with

Something along the lines of

"Oh...Bother"

🍯

it's pale light
still glows
with a low hum

the knobs still clink
when pulled and with
a dollars worth of quarters

popped into the slot
you can choose

happiness
sadness
or the candy bar

wrapped
in silver and gray
what was it called

Zero