I smile in the mirror
Trying not to cry.
I cannot comprehend
How my red eyes
And white teeth
Can coexist like this.
If only I could will
Myself to be happy.
I have to be happy
For the others.

So I grin
Because I read
Somewhere
That it could make
Me happy.

I’ve got a friend who has
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum.

You’ll feel it pass through you
With a heart-beating thrum,
Raindrops’ pitter patter echo
All she has done.

I’ve got a friend who has
Words that come down,
Heavy like leaden-footed
Giants abound.

She’ll take your breath away
And you’ll feel it in your bones,
It shakes down the mountains
Wherever she goes.

I’ve got a friend whose words
Land like a punch.
Staccato but it always hurts
Far too much.

She fights every battle
Like it’ll make her enough
For words filled with love
While hers are cold to the touch.

i meander at the
depths of rock bottom stumbling
upon newfound grace and
gratitude.

the spiking stone all around
is dull to the eyes but makes
the ever-blue sky
come alive.

when i reach up to
touch it, i know that
i am too small to caress
those faint cotton candy
wisps.

but in my dreams,
i greet the sunrise by
perching on the shoulders
of those who dare to rise
above.

I’ve already done my ten-thousand hours
Under the light of the moon and the sun.
”Self-made” contains its own divine power
In the minds of the Americana.

My bootstraps, I’ve pulled
Until they tore off.
I admit, I’ve been fooled
In this Land of the Lost.

And still yet they shout, at Forefather’s behest:
“Give it your all! And then give me the rest!”

People. Feel. Life. Time. Love. Hate. Day. Cold. Find. Lost. Good. Bad. Wrong. Write. Light. Dark. Heart. Mind. Eyes. Hear. Pain. Hope. Sun. Stars. Better. Afraid. Real. Thought. Help. Cry. Happy. Sad. Fire. Grow.

Perfect.

𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏.

The light
And the dark
Right next to each other.

Human
and God
Right next to each other.

These are my words:
Contradiction after contradiction.

This is who I am:
Everything, nothing, everywhere, nowhere
All.
At.
Once.

“I laugh when I’m sad,”
I said.

And then
I giggled
Softly.

(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?