Here
I
Lie
But
My heart thus
Lies
Elsewhere

I’m sending you messages
Are you even getting them?

“Come back to me”

I hope you listen

They’ll read it
They’ll like it
I get a chance

I take it.

I wear a paper crown and a blanket as a robe

I bare my big front teeth with a grin

My voice echoes when I roar

My feet stomp carelessly, shaking the floor


I am not a king, possibly a prince?

I am wild and unruly and untamed

I am loud and rude and mean

Yet my fur is soft and my heart is clean


I am Max - or Maxine

King - or prince

of the Wild Things

There’s a beauty hidden in normal days

Getting ready in the morning


Going to work, going to class


Coming home to cat meows and a soft bed

Sometimes I hate the repetitiveness, the normalcy of it all

But I love the habits I’ve made taking care of myself

I love staring into my eyes in the mirror when I’m still sleepy

I love petting my cats when they’re excited to see me

I love going to class when it feels like fall



Mostly I think I just miss your part in my routine

Your comforting presence in my bed holding me before I get up

Your whispers of sweet nothings as I brush my teeth

Your smile when you see me come back after a long day

I guess I don’t mind so many normal days

I just hope you can start living them with me
I hope you can stay.

One step forward, three steps back

I take care of myself until I fall behind
Each day I make an effort to get better
But sometimes getting better is not easy

A little progress is better than none
At least that’s what I tell myself

Today I woke up at peace

I’m learning to use logic to explain the hurt

I’m like an open book now
Despite my pages being creased

I’m beginning a new story
One that I do not know

But I’m excited to read it
I’ll go with the flow

Celebrating Ramadan amidst the concrete rubble

String lights illuminate hungry faces

To be surrounded by oppression and violence yet sit together at a table to share a feast

That is true resilience.

Love radiates from the dishes, food scarce so they share

No matter the evil, the deathly threats,

They stand together united, all as one,
Their connection un-severed.
Material things, they have none.

To have such joy in dark times
Is to resist the occupation, to be freed
Body, Soul, Spirit, Mind.

My mind is in anguish
as I process my past

They carved scars into my skin
With their sharpened knives

Then gave me claws that I couldn’t seem to trim

First I hurt myself
Scratching my skin until it was raw

Salty tears didn’t heal my wounds

Now I’ve scarred your flesh
Because I didn’t file my nails

It bleeds as I stare in horror

I never thought I’d recreate the pain
That I had felt so deeply before


Although I now carefully remove each talon
Inspecting their purpose

Your scars will remain, just as mine

I wish I was never given those weapons
That I didn’t want

I wish hadn’t used them

Forever now I live in reflection
As I wonder if your cuts will heal

As I wonder if we can move forward

My wounds revealed

The scars that I bear so well

They still burn

‘Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree’

Your lights shine too bright
My eyes
Are sensitive
And so are my ears

Loud voices and bustling shoppers
Make me anxious
Whatever happened to whoville?

I don’t need presents or money
I’m happy with those I love around me

Sometimes I wonder if they feel the same
Or has the holiday season
Driven them insane?

Some days I appreciate the morning sky

Some days the trees speak to me
And I feel
free

There are days where I don’t go outside

Days that I feel far away

The trees loom over me,
dark and haunting
—————————

At night I watch the row of streetlights
waiting for one to flicker
I listen for the faint noises of traffic
amidst the quiet air

I watch the moon as if it can see me
It shines down in a crescent shape

I whisper goodnight to the empty street
Leaving behind the ghosts that surround me

I find my place in the sky
Among the stars….

I may not be gifted in painting
I may not be taught, like the masters, how to ‘properly’ create

But with my words, unsteady and scribbled, flawed and broken,
I paint canvases beyond sight.
I imagine art more beautiful than any Mona Lisa,
I create masterpieces without ever dipping my brush.

My craft is greatly imperfect, cluttered, and poorly expressed,

But still I attempt to write the words that sit waiting deep within my chest

Often I do not understand what I write,

but I must allow my fingers to scrawl each thought

For each word, each story,
is an expression of myself;

a world in all its beauty and ugliness,

and I must share.

Even if no one is listening.

To be loved is to be known

wholly, completely, and unfalteringly known

to be naked in front of one another


not with skin, but with one’s soul

Exposed and raw, shameful and afraid;

Beautiful and flawed, unabashed and free


To be loved is to be known,

Achingly, deeply, painfully known

to venture far past thorns and briars,


into dense woods and icy mountains.

To cut and scrape and climb your way through,

to wander into the unknown,

to shiver under blankets of snow.


To be loved is to be known,

to search the vast depths of ocean and sky and earth

looking for you-


-looking for the good and the bad too.

Attempting to harness, not capture, your heart.


Attempting to feel-


-the ever-changing seasons-


-of your soul.

Every-time you test my trust

My heart breaks a little more

You wonder if you’ve lost me

I’m not sure

I’m still here

But I need all of you

No second thoughts

No doubts

Just your whole self in mine

Shady sunshine falls on a bright green hill

Chubby cheeks and ringlet curls

Frolicking around fat squirrels and dandelions

Spinning on a rope swing,
A blurry canopy of trees and laughter

Big smiles make us feel young

So we frolicked and danced

under the sun.