march/24

14—the stinging warmth at the back of your head, tracing the arch of your breathing instrument, explodes like fireworks all over your face—a sign of the unfulfilled rest and lengthening of the waking nightmares. And because you were born a woman, you experience everything, everywhere.. all at once.

My eyes are burning.

15—the safest zone a woman could be in, is the period of pure nakedness after an evening shower, where you can sit on the floor, leaning on the bodice of your bed, and be in that moment for hours.. writing words describing the safest zone any woman should feel.

29—the sound of a stranger’s honking traverse from dreaming to breathing yesterday’s dilemma. I am sitting on the floor of a stranger’s house, yet I feel so at home. A manifest that a house is not a home, unless you are at peace with the strangers on the inside. A home is not a place, but the warmth of a stranger’s embrace, the sweeping of a stranger’s fallen leaves, the smell of a stranger’s cooking. I am alone, but I am not lonely. I am given the chance to be silent in my thoughts. I am given the chance to breathe the morning of a stranger’s coffee, and I am home–finally. I am at my happiest yet. And I am totally in control.

a poem to you

hi,

we met under strange

quite, the strangest circumstances

and it was up to us to quit or not

but you did, and I didn’t

because I knew what I felt was real

it isn’t temporary

it isn’t fleeting

it isn’t everything

you thought it would be

oh, were you so wrong

why don’t you quit it

start

somewhere else

far from here

and wake up to the sound of the wind

blowing right into your ears

shouting words of advice

to meddle with your fantasies

and give me a chance

you might think you’re the holy ghost

but you won’t be, unless

you let me be

let me smell the flowers

let me savor the sunrises

let me bask in the glory of the moon

let me sleep

let me breathe

let me go

how can love be enough,

if it’s the only thing

keeping you from growing

?

soak

and just like that, like a smoked out cigarette

You left me under the moon light to soak

To soak the waves, and breathe the air

alone and in the darkness.

The darkness was a friend, but now

I fear and I scare and I fear and I scare.

I scare away the only one that moves,

that laughs, cries, smiles and embraces.

Embraces all the sadness,

and keeps the tides going.

Going somewhere, where the ocean takes us,

is what I want to do for the rest of my life.

My life is a fleeting sail, and you are the anchor,

you are the destination.

The destination I can only pursue,

if I’m dreaming and listening.

Listening to the only heart that’s beating for me,

And stops only to remind.

To remind me of the things I hide,

And the things I fear. And just like that.

:)(

I never saw your smile.

I never did, but I know it makes you glow.

I know it makes you stand out every time you try to camouflage your way through a crowd, to hide.. in your attempt to disappear.

You always fail to pretend you’re sad, because your smile hides it, and it might feel like a curse for now, but we both know it’s more of a gift.

No one would question a happy man.

No one would care why you are so happy.

People would investigate though whenever they see someone frown, or feel someone’s sadness.

They would ask.

Do you think it would be best if we all pretended to be happy?

That the world would be a better place, and everyone would diminish their walls and transcend into wholesome beings, infused with different reasons to smile?

But you know..

I never saw yours.

So I must ask why.

initially

Learning to know a part of me that i don’t usually get to acknowledge, makes everything worth my time. Opening up to you was a long lost friend, a beautiful stranger, a cigarette butt waiting to be devoured again. You were that peace i never found, and the silence i lost.

Changing tides and withering leaves, seem to bring back the urge for my lips to soften up and my skin to crack again—it was wonderful. Awakened to the strange truth of so many things, you lightened up the dark room i was in with all of your sentiments, and suddenly, everything fell at ease. Reality sinks in, but this time, i was enthusiastic rather than afraid, loose instead of tightened because all the time, i was with you. Love? Or comfortable sadness?

A smile drawn on my face and you are the artist. Breathing in a chance of another life, where children were happier and the adults, more kind. Every inch of distance makes me weak, knowing that you are here but you can’t always be. Right now, i swear—by the falling of burn and itches on my body—this is the first of many good things to come. I knew you were something else when you came into the room. Opened all the windows, and threw away all the curtains, you have done it all. Now, tomorrow or someday, i might find the courage to speak and bloom in this world with you.

C