I hate airports.
I hate the vibrant colours, the staff who work happily, even through the mass of sadness that countless others are experiencing around them.
I hate the food, which is good, but sometimes, the bitterness of leaving sinks to the taste.
But most of all, i hate the the idea of parting, the idea of saying goodbye.
No matter how near or how far I may go, just knowing that I’ll be away from your grasp is painful enough.
I hate waking up on that day. The surrealness of it. To know that in a mere 24 hours, this won’t be home anymore. My last day on that bed. My last day with those people. My last day on that ground. My last day breathing this air, until well… god knows when.
I hate seeing you. I love you so much, but seeing your dead eyes, and seeing how your inner pain is so great that it’s affecting you physically, affects me too. I hate seeing you struggle to be strong, even though the pain is evident.
I hate hearing the plans for our trip.
The bags and boxes that served as my storage unit and dumping grounds, all neatly packed up, just like the day we landed. The only tie I have to the place that serves as my “home”. Really, “home” to me is a home away from my real home.
I hate the feeling of guilt, knowing YOU are the one who’s leaving a hole behind. That though it’s hard, it’s always being left behind that hurts more.
The voices and extra noise that I made. The late night guitar playing or the early morning screaming. In 24 hours, gone.
All of it parts on a metal tube in the sky. Planes….
I hate that "back to normal" feeling, that lack of presence that we leave behind. I hurt them, even though I don’t want to.
Then there’s the ride going to the airport
Please, come with me. I need you here. Just a few more minutes. Just another second. Anything.
Every little inch closer to the airport, I have to look out the window, act like I can’t see your eyes through the reflection. Act like I don’t know what you want to say. Act like I’m just giving this place “one final look”. Holding back the tears.
Mess up my ticket. Burn the plane. Pop the tires. I don’t want to go.
I wish I didn’t know these streets, but I do. I know the ride. I know the locations. I can tell we’re getting closer.
I know you don’t want to be here. But please stay with me.
I want to know how much time we have together until I have to leave.
i can already imagine, during that ride back...
The black stain of absence that I left. The emptiness of everything, and the pain you’re facing.
I wonder why you seem like you can barely move. Like you’re wearing shoes made of -
Oh.
It’s the weight.
I’m sorry.
I look back at the spot on the bed that I used to take up.
I hate taking these photographs.
The smiles I give are always fake, and I know yours is too. We pretend, because at the end of the day, there is no happy family. Not today. Not while we have to separate.
Please don't capture this moment.
Please give me a hug.
Don’t let go. A part of me prays something inside you goes berserk, like in those supernatural movies
That maybe you’re keeping some sort of secret power or trump card that you’re waiting to use.
That maybe you might grow wings and take me away from here so we miss the flight.
That maybe you just whisper “run” and for some strange reason, we just run away, buying even just a few moments. A few fleeting moments.
It'll be awhile before i get another one of your hugs, so please, hold me like it’s your last because god forbid if I die on that plane I’ll never get to hug you again so please.
Even though you’ll feel empty after, please. It’s so selfish but god, do it for me.
Thing is, I know deep in my heart I’m not the only one feeling this sadness
Right and left there are goodbyes
There are couples who are a few goodbyes away from a long distance relationship
There is a kid who is clinging to her dad's leg telling me to stay or take her along because he's working abroad
There are people sharing words to family members who live far away
There's so many people feeling the same, but... it doesn’t take away from the pain.
“Have a safe trip!”
I want to die.
“Call us when you’re home!”
I am home.
“Don’t cry”
You’re lucky you can’t see into my soul, because I’m not crying. I'm bleeding.
“Come back soon!”
I don’t need to leave.
“Bye”
I don’t want to go
"Bye"
Don’t push me away
"Bye"
Why did you make me leave this place.
"Bye"
I don’t want to go…

bye.

I hate airports

i remember it was almost sunset
and i was sitting on the passenger seat
with you handling the wheel next to me
and we nearly crashed into another car
i could swear i never felt more alive yet terrified
but when you got my hand and told me
"feel my heartbeat"
i placed my hand on your heart
it was beating so fast
but my focus was on your blue eyes
this was the first time i felt something so surreal
it felt like i was starring out to the sea
i got so lost in the waves of your heartbeat and the shock in your eyes
that i didn't realize you started holding my hand
and then you kissed me and i didnt think much of it
because i thought id see you again soon
now i know that i should of kissed you longer

And suddenly, as if waking from a child's dream,
I am thrown into reality,
not awoken softly by my mother's warmth
but startled and bewildered to find her not there.
I exit the hazy surrealness of midnight rendezvous,
and the disillusionment snakes its way around my heart.
As if struggling to find my breath or finding myself alone,
I am starkly confronted yet again with my naiveté.
I am transformed into that little girl who trusted so easily,
and now, it is not just disappointment but also shame
that, like a vapor, evades every corner of my being.
To have believed in a dream and my own competence,
I am still that foolish little girl who never learned.
Perhaps, the worst part of gullibility is the knowledge
that the fool and the fooled will always be you.

Summer's surrealness -
a dragonfly in space,
stars aligned in perfectly circled shapes.

Craving the tingling
foreboding sense of of cold -
burning fingertips, auburn smoke.

Autumn's delight - fiery
colorfulness, adorning
the piny mountainside.

© fey (24/07/22)

Bolting upright,
In a valley oh so green,
Adorned in white,
And seeing clouds dot the sky,
I realize with a starling realization,
"Oh ****, I guess I died."

Make my way to the barn I saw,
See a spread on a table 30 foot wide,
I see Jesus with all his fellers,
Laughin' while sippin on wine.

I walk up to the Son,
And ask if I can have a seat,
He gestures to the empty seat to his left,
Apparently, he was waiting for me.

As Jesus laughs at a joke from John the Baptist,
I take a sip from my glass with a trembling hand,
Looking at our savior a gather the gumption to ask him an important question to me.

As he turns to me I feel my stomach drop,
He says,
"Go on my friend and ask."
I say to him,
"Oh Lord, how is it this came to be?"

He ponders this over a bite of trout,
Gesturing me to take a bite of my own.
As I chew on the tender meat he swallows and says.

"My boy, you were a bit gruff,
and crass I may say,
But you believed in me and dispite your rougher edges,
You never lost your faith."

I looked over to James,
Who's talking to Matthew,
Debating the best kind of fly for fishin,
And Jesus continues to me.

"While you stumbled a time or two,
And did some things that made me shake my head,
You did your best to be a better man,
So for that you can join in on this little meal,
and feast here with my friends."

I take in the scene before me,
The surrealness of it all,
And a smile creeps along my face,
But quickly falls with the same pace,
"But what of my family Jesus,
Are they alright after my death?"

He turns to me,
A smile in his eyes,
and lays my concerns at ease.

"They'll grieve you,
and in time they'll just join you here,
But for now let's finish up,
Because Mary makes a mean cobbler"

words cannot describe
the surrealness
of discussing the future, holding the future, like a ball of ice
that will pinken your fingertips,
and in the moment you feel incredibly small.
when your heart ******* aches in the most melancholy way,
not sad, just
quietly startled,
seeing love around you, pressing at your temples
white hospital walls,
sore throats,
*** in cars,
passing through the front door at midnight,
cold blankets.
being the definition of a word.
hating the fact that I'm looking back at myself currently, through memories, and that this moment isn't even that good but i'll think it is later.
knowing,
just knowing
everything and nothing all at once,
and the pain of thought.

allow me to indulge you with my philosophy
it has become apparent to me that throughout the course of my life
the same question has been imposed upon me
and i have given the same answer
until now
ask me what i believe is to be the greatest feeling that anyone can portray
happiness
it defeats all other sentiments on this earth
it surmounts rage, hate, fear, pain, and dejection
all things that others may find beguiling
i choose to believe they are mistaken
indeed
you can contempt yourself with woe
surround yourself with closed doors, pills, and solitude on the bathroom floor at 3am
you can seal yourself in a package with immeasurable bitterness and agitation
a disclaimer at the very top spelling out
“WARNING DO NOT TOUCH”
you can choose to seek gratification in tarnishing others
transforming yourself as a threat rather than safety
depict the gates of hell out of your insecurities
scorch all those who reach for you
shall i continue?
…
happiness
the apprehension that you wish to unlock
a notion one is granted
yet you choose to form an idea that it cannot be found
even when the key is set out in blindsight
the fundamental of this bias weighs solely on you
releasing yourself from the confinement you’ve been defined by
some may say they await the arrival of another
convincing themselves this “person” renders all qualities to set them loose
secluded by the gravel
there is no outlet without someone to uplift you
but your freedom is not disposed to you by another
happiness is not fed amongst the perception of others
believe me when i tell you
it is rooted from within you
it forms rivers and valleys out of your ache
establishes mountains of your inmost fears

i know of all these things because i myself have felt them
strongly
intensely
lightly
delicately
i spent so long in hiding i forgot the rich sentiment of the sun
i wasted months in the profundity of darkness
the appearance of light itself enthralled me
i shared a room with remorse and regret
revolted for all the things i had said
and all those i didn’t
i released wars amongst my waters
you’d be swept by vigorous currents and devoured by creatures whose only natural instinct was to **** the first thing in their sight
i was a depiction of all the things i wanted least to be
a perfect contradiction to all that i desired and was
yet
i cleansed myself from the agony
that i forgot how rich my skin was after all the dirt and excess was removed
i have grown fields of thorns out of the vexation of the words i spoke
but i discovered once i altered that hate into acceptance
once i deluded myself in self discovery
i was swallowed by hills of daffodils
that seemed to extend for miles and miles
i somehow came to peace with the fact that infinitely deep in all this chaos
there is beauty
i understood once battles have been fought it is for certain best to make amends
and this war
this frightful
terrifying yet
completely mesmerizing war
it was all against myself
and in the midst
i glanced around myself and i saw
so vividly the storm you and everybody else
including my own self
seem so confined in
a confinement we assume defines us
but it does not
because in fact
it entitles us to strength
it gives us a reason to strive for courage
a reason to lose ourselves in order to be found
the convincement that once we reach an everlasting winter within ourselves
we will be unable to walk in the rays of our own sunlight again
we will cease to grasp the howling of the wind
neglected to feel the intensity of it as it nearly sweeps us off our feet
preventing us from feeling and indulging ourselves in the unknown
to laugh to the extent we’re clenching our own stomachs
and droplets of purity leaking from our eyelids
the fulfillment of dancing in our rooms in the middle of the night
when everyone is dead asleep
yet we’re allured into another world of art
finding surrealness with goodness in everything we do and feel
even if at times it isn’t always as easy as we’d like it to be
making it seemingly impossible to view ourselves as more than the sum of our parts
but as the entire landscape of the person we are
to seize every moment and making it our own
creating a canvas with our smile and allowing it to illustrate things we never imagined we could create
but that is untrue in the most tremendous of ways
for i have finally seen myself
aware that there were and are parts of me that are for more prettier to view than the rest
because of this i took cover and hid in shame and ignominy
a wallflower sitting recklessly in darkness
forsaken in her own solitude to even attempt to step foot in the light
but i assure you once i did
once i had found myself
the seed planted within me ages ago
sprouted
beams of the sun showered me in constant radiance
the storms that passed over painted hues on every inch of my skin
that at last
i became a garden of my own
blossoming with begonias, marigolds and sunflowers
a vision of ecstasy to all that passed me
my kaleidoscopic shades fascinated all those in my presence
for i am no longer reluctant with who i am and was
i have found inner peace in the person i am
so go ahead
ask me what i believe to be the greatest feeling anyone can portray
and every single time i shall answer
…
happiness
-c. alejandra

The urges and thoughts
toy with my heart
my mind collapsing in
what feels like slow motion

Old habits revitalized
like a dying need
to **** in a breath
after my soul being
bound and *****

A torturous nightmare
intertwined with the shadow
of truth and surrealness

Funny how trauma can forever
stain the mind with so many
shades of colors from the
darkest of blacks to hauntingly white

My quiet hell from the past
where self-sabotage, fear
and delusional trust collide

Deciding to live resiliently
I stride forward while fighting this endless silent war,
to reclaim my sense of self-worth

Putting my heart on paper
I know I am alive