wordsonwordsonwords

wordsonwordsonwords Mar 2022

You were an orchid.
Delicate, bold, and beautiful.
You and your distinctive leaves,
Dainty and remarkable.
Weathered and wonderful.
You blossomed in your own time.

I think I may have overwatered you.
Suffocated you in structure and obligation.
Why is it that natural nonconformity needs repair?
I kept finding myself drowning you.

wordsonwordsonwords Feb 2022

If there is a God

To the man I adore,

It is not simple to write in words what it means to love you. What an honor it is to share this corner of the world with you. What a privilege, to watch you come home to yourself. Again and again.

I'm not sure there is a God.
I don't think you're certain either.
But if there is, I think you embody him in your goodness.
I think he used words like adoration and intimacy with us in mind.
He exists in our embraces.

wordsonwordsonwords Jan 2022

I replaced you with more coffee

I replaced you with more coffee - Less milk, fewer sugars.
I kept it dark so it could mimic you.
Unapologetically bitter.

wordsonwordsonwords Jan 2022

Places I Have Unexpectedly Found Joy

In aisle eight at Key Food,
Somewhere between the challah bread and canned vegetables.

Sitting on the church steps on that 101-degree day,
Introspecting alongside the infamous Glennon Doyle.
Soaking in the sun and her sanity.
It was well worth the blisters.

On the E train after I had dropped an airpod.
The sound of Olivia Rodrigo in one ear
And the discourse of two love-bird tweens in the other.

The day he left me.

That time we locked ourselves out of my car and nearly missed the baby shower.
The way we laughed until our stomachs hurt.
We could always find humor in the unexpected.

wordsonwordsonwords Jan 2022

I Don't Know David Jones, But I Do Agree

"It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply"
You read the words of David Jones in a loving, yet disheartening voice.
We paused
I wondered what it would look like when we found each other, drenched in different shades of feeling.
Weather-resistant is a large feat.
What if I had found the bright-colored sun, and you were still stuck in the rainshower.
I imagine offering you an umbrella
You'd decline
Not because you enjoyed the wet weather, but because it was your birthplace
Melancholy was your native tongue and I wasn't yet fluent in the language.
Eventually, you would find the light again and relish in it.
You looked so **** beautiful when you rejoiced over goodness.
Until that day, we would play house,
Naive and near-sighted.
I think this is why they hate young people.

wordsonwordsonwords Dec 2021

Children Chirping

From the 17th floor, I can hear it all.
Abrupt splashing as cars plow through puddles
on their way to a mundane job.
How many of us are truly doing our life's work?
How many of us can answer that candidly?
Children chirping,
I imagine their backpacks so large
it takes a conscious effort to remain steady.
I'm not sure they realize how fortunate they are,
For this is the only weight they must carry.
I envy their innocence.
I overhear phone calls to loved ones and not-so-loved-ones.
Dialogues of "I love you" and "I ******* told you so".
How many times in a day do you think we fluctuate between tenderness and discontent?
I can't possibly be the only one who seesaws incessantly.
I'd imagine the vast majority of you are just more adept at camouflaging it with fraudulent smiles.
I can't stop thinking about those enormous backpacks.
At what age will the world ask of them
to trade in their crayons and books for more burdensome things?

wordsonwordsonwords Dec 2021

Untitled

I lay next to you
Rhythmic movements Between your chest and mine.
Hello perfect hair on your head
Sometimes I get jealous of the way it gets to follow you everywhere.
Attached yet tensionless.
I hope to be that for you someday.
Have you seen the perfectly circular mole on the back of your neck?
Do you think it feels as loved as the front of you?
I will be sure to kiss it more often,
Make it feel seen as you do for me every day.
Do you think the sunrise knows what love is?
Pink and orange hues lay a backdrop alongside your perfect face.
I think it knows when it glistens in a room full of fondness and devotion.
It feels intentional when it finds us, laying in bed, holding one another.
Sometimes I think about the way your head is shaped like a potato.
Or the way the valley between your nose and upper lip is soft underneath the burly-ness.
Just like both of us,
Rough on the surface but soft on the inside.
I hope you don’t hate the potato part.