"It will fade"
She assures me
Gently, lovingly
For she went through
The same feelings as I
"Probably,"
I answer
Quietly, reluctantly

I do not want it to fade
These feelings
This warmth
It is precious to me
Even if this seed does not grow
Even if the tree bears no fruit
The process of planting
Of watering
Of tending
Is precious to me
He is precious to me
I want to keep these feelings
I want to keep my tree

While asleep, I sense you hand
on my forehead.
As a drop of your tears
fall on my cheek,

upon seeing the way I'm sick all day,
this love is worth of
not being well for a thousand years.

Fear
The first dark breath we take,
a shadow that grows as we learn its name.
It lives in quiet corners,
where thoughts echo back our doubts,
and we wonder—are we truly alone?

Afraid of what’s lost, afraid to hold on,
we spin in loops of overthought,
making prisons from our own doubts.
How strange it is to long for touch,

to carry the weight of endless what-ifs,
a reel of past and future fears,
afraid to step forward, afraid to let go.

But somewhere beyond this haze of worry,
beyond the walls we’ve built so high,
a light breaks through, soft and true.
And deep down I know, one day I’ll find you—
So I can say, I got you;
everything’s gonna be okay.

Everyday I look in the mirror and see your face.
SHAME, SHAME, SHAME!
That is all I can see,
All I can hear,
FEEL!
Throughout the night I cry wondering why,
As I wait for sun to rise, I do as you please,
Pretend to be at ease.
But why? Why do I have to follow what you want?
Why is it always my fault?
Why am I always to blame?
For your mistakes, your hate, YOUR PAIN?
How is it a child’s fault that your life is not a certain way?
When will you take blame?
For the bruises, the heartache, THE SHAME!
The shame that I must keep each day.
Why should I, the child,  
Feel shame because of your mistakes?
While you run around the world,
Free of blame.
Pardoned by those around because our pain is “not” the same,
When will you pay?
For the trust you betrayed,
For childhood YOU turned into pain.
One day the shame will be on you,
And the child you failed will be free of your chain.

green

bodies
of
bamboo
yield
little
to
the
wind
bending
just
enough
to
trust
what
is
not

seen