Creases Of A Light Bulb 1q5k65

Creases of a Light Bulb

Mona Smith

Copyright © 2021 Mona Smith All rights reserved First Edition NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING 320 Broad Street Red Bank, NJ 07701 First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2021 ISBN 978-1-63692-231-7 (Paperback) ISBN 978-1-63692-232-4 (Digital) Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Wanting Beep Dear Sir “Am I Missing Something, Sir?” Sii Libero I Will RISE Reflections Brainstorming The Soul of a Weeping Willow Tree I Now Can You Truly Tell the Truth? Sit and Stare Shy Nightingale Friends Forever The Car that Went Faster Different Server What Ifs

Harsh Realities Freewrite Lover of Arrogance Walking Symphony Fluorescents Quiet Adventurer Skipping Showers Beneath These Curtains The Phone Call

The Wanting

These waves move effortlessly from the eyes of stagnation wishing that there were more to life than just empty temptation The feeling of habit the feeling of “I always got to have it” I got these pedal stools that you could borrow You could use them until tomorrow, where the evening flips and turns into morning embraces from the promiscuous sunlight the dawning of midnight? The waves that glide in this peculiar ocean only know me by certain formulas We all are not the same But somewhere deep inside this conversation are the remains of who we used to be This ocean must feel like it is defining me The world could come to an exaggerated ending and all that would be left is your soulless canvas that reminds me of these tears Dear Mista, excuse my revolting selfishness. I have just been wanting you for years…

Mista Sunshine

May I take my time to address the lonely nights I would sit up an obsess over your isolated rays Pining until the forum of morning decided to lace up against my doorstep and decay Inside the cracks of this window is where all your secrets are kept We have these tainted promises that guide us toward a desolate opening I have glasses for each of our memories, but the remembrance is not focusing, so now I am hopelessly lost inside your beckoning of happily ever after Never did we plan for a moment to be so intriguing, so bare, so raw Summer could come the next day, and the ice sickles from two years back would still need to thaw You are only who you want to be, but what I am not…you do not see.

Tragic Waste ~4.27.2018~

The water whispers to the human in a powerful silence, “I’m nothing but emotionless riots. From a manslaughter of a thousand juices because like I said, I am recycled water. I float and gloat into the piped-up drains, descending to come down when it rains. I am nothing, nothing! At first, I was clean and flirtatious. Back in the day, you could find me anywhere and possibly drink me for free. I could be anywhere, yes. Now I am nothing…but recycled water draining slimily into the sewers from your showers and toilets. You got me milking into your sinks with a foul smell that smells like I ‘soiled it.’ Their chemicals and prescriptions are not working like they used to, and they know it. Ask me who I am, and I will tell you WHO I AM! Time is running out of clear tones; those tireless chemicals are not working! They burn me out, making me even more dirty, but all continue to drink me, feed on me, use me, waste me, and taste me, treating me like all NEED ME. Yeah…you guys need me, while I sit back thinking about all the times I did not need you. I do not need any of you. Matter of fact, I do not want to need you filthy organisms. I rather stay in the lakes, oceans, ponds, and rivers, but not you or your sister including her mister. Ya brother, your father, ya mother, because I should be free water. Not some ‘Pay the bill to use water!’ Mankind is getting away with the crime of letting me get all dirty. I get smelly and hella sickish from all the bacteria tickling my flow. Making my insides rot from the chemicals you keep dumping in me, just so y’all can have something to drink! What will y’all do when I am no longer here? Will you just dry out and fry like a shell as I slowly disappear? Evaporated, no more left, soaked up from all the chemicals that got me completely dehydrated.

Just letting you know, year. Just letting y’all all know. I am nothing but recycled water, and cycles end eventually.”

Nothing More ~4.27.2018~

I confess, I have seen her before and perhaps maybe a few times. Yes, I guess that I can say that I would walk past her in the hallways on my way to lunch. She seemed off, somewhat away from it all. Yes, oh, and perhaps maybe she was ill. I bet that was probably the explanation for her frown… I bet that was the case for her head, the way she looked at the ground when she would walk to her destination. The way she hesitated to get up from her seat to go throw away her trash. I never knew of her life, never knew of her well-being, but I do continue to see her around. Actually, I see her often, walking alone. Say, have you ever experienced something like this? Let us say that this is your very first time coming across someone. Someone whom you have never met before, and when you do for the very first time, it is like after that, you start seeing this person more often—just about everywhere you go. Deep down, you know it cannot be just a simple coincidence. NO, it is, it has, to be something more than that! It must be the way the galaxies collide together, making everyone’s reality’s form into one tiny spectrum. We, as people, must at least think about that. But yes, I have seen her more than once, more than twice. Could be at least more than three times since we have school five days of the week. Although I really do pity that she has never seen me because she was too busy seeing someone else. She was too busy waiting for him and not noticing me. I. Yes, me. Could have given her anything that money cannot buy because yes, I do confess I am a poor guy. But I…I, yes, ME. Could have still given her this world from the palm of my hands, but she will never understand. Not ever. Instead, I will just watch her as she watches him while some lovely gal is probably watching me. So yes, I watch her till the end of the school day even though she is in only one of my classes. Sometimes I got

to who the fuck I AM. I realize that she will never care for me. She will never love the fact that I can give her anything—all of it. I see the way she waits for him as if day has turned into night suddenly while it is still morning. I have seen the way she goes into the girl’s bathroom looking into the mirror as if she’s lost…Well, she is not lost, if she would only realize that she has ME. All that I ever wanted was for her to understand that I am the real one in her life. But we will never be friends or anything but complete strangers. We will never be anything but people who will never glance for even just one second into each other’s eyes. We will just remain to be strangers walking on the separate sides of the halls. Fearing change in the ability to say hello, I notice her, but she has never noticed me. For when I am around, I can read all her past mistakes, wishing that I could possibly save her from this new one. BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE. Will she ever understand that I do indeed see a chance between us if she would only come my way? I it, I shy away before she could even sense my glance, and when I do happen to come around her on PURPOSE (Yes, I purposely come around her without her even noticing), I get this feeling of hope. That one day, maybe even someday soon, we could be more than just strangers…

Beep

And Imma watch the morning slip into a deep sleep

I forgot to shut off my batteries and vacate the premises Beep Beep Hopefully, the weeper does not recognize the unhealthy scheduler May they be able to catch the positive blessing in which they do not reap There is something in the way you do not dream But you You Fight for what you do not see until it is too late Connection is gone, and all of it is fading against the inevitable fate Who are you? Who are we? Is there such a thing as “too late”? Cause they find themselves to be in the mixture of self-loathing and self-hate Tos hopes like they were meant to fall Giving up on relationships like they meant to miss that call

But what if everything you thought you knew was all a lie? The leaves that turned green among that tree is the waves from the sea The sky is the ground that you walk upon All along it was just destiny and the color-blind outlining And Imma watch the morning slip into a deep sleep Fuck around and forget to set my alarm When she wakes up, hopefully her X-rays Become my beep To my Saturdays that will soon calm the storm

Dear Sir

He stops me in my tracks and asks, “Who are you looking for?” Well, I do not know Maybe I am searching for a reason to stay like my thoughts from yesterday Maybe I am trying to find the reason as to why we leave people behind But you asked me who I am looking for. Well, matter of fact, I am looking for HIM I am trying to find him in the last place that I left him I am trying to get back to my lover The one that I thought I did not need Yes, bring him BACK, to me There is this saddened edge that cuts me deep to my core When thinking back on how I did not love him no more But I do love him so I am searching for him in the night Despite the consequences of tomorrow

I am looking for the only way to kill these sorrows So fuck a goodbye that does not save me for shit I am trying to come up with an excuse that makes my odd disappearance seem worth it And if you see him, sir, tell him that I said I am SEARCHIN’ I am over here looking in corners and stores, putting the work in like I done abandoned a few sets of morals ’Cause to me, I need to find him We have too many memories to rewind, and what’s life without him?

Raining Thunder

And I guess I will be honest about the last time I decided to give up. It was a rainy night, and I had just gotten out of the shower. My eyes were puffy from all the crying, and everywhere around me felt still. Living alone is one thing, but having no friends to turn to is another. It is like waking up to these endless cycles of rejected loneliness. I sometimes must ask myself why I abandon the things that I love and want. The only answer to my never-ending questions becomes surreal and clear to my vision, that in hindsight, I could have been right. And maybe it is because I do not meditate and drink tea as often as I would like, but sometimes it hurts to know that I have let all these people go. I that night so vividly, because as

I began crying at my own foolishness, the thunder started to rain. I do not know if it was out of habit or just utter embarrassment, but I laughed while gripping onto my kitchen counter. I was feeling like I could go completely insane and no one would even notice or care that I suddenly changed. Or that I suddenly disappeared from all my responsibilities. Is there a way out? And it is not my mind or the mere fact that I am insecure but I rather blame my problems on the people I do not associate with anymore. They said I must find an agent to bring all of my dreams into an intertwined reality, but I could not see past my kitchen window. The rain was falling harder, and all I felt like doing was ruining anything near me. Even if that meant me… Even if that meant quitting my dead-end job

because to me, it was no longer worth the fight. I had to remind myself that this is not my destination. That there is another way and there will always be another way, but temptation decided to get the best of me. I restlessly searched for a weapon, anything to bring this distress to an end. Anything to quiet the fake sympathy that we doubtlessly receive from others But then again… Who am I to blame? Who am I to speak ill on the ones who have? done me wrong in secret? I mean, we have all got our demons, but dear universe, These ignorant thoughts of mine may be the reason for all my transparencies. Not the man that I fell hopelessly in love with Or the many few intelligent women I befriended But then here I am, pretending in disguise that I am about to cut off everyone and everything.

Due to my own devilish demise

Observations

When I try not to think about it, and believe me, I have tried not to think about it, My stomach gets sick with a fear of constipation without any hesitation on how to overcome my anxiety. If reality is not real, I would probably understand why I cannot sleep Although the reasons that flew by with the teaching ing season left me breathless, Which explains why I am restless.

As the table begins creaking, my ion for life begins leaking because I am too much… The mind of an antagonistic animal with humanistic tendencies tends to weave me into a terrifying diagnostic system. Wishes upon wishes, wishing that I missed him at the gate. Then again, I am too late. I realize my ignorance is encouraged by the temporary weight that is upon my shoulders. Am I this pessimistic bolder that blocks love at the front door? Or am I just a nuisance of triumphalism? No one can get to me because of my disguised pessimism.

No, I do not think so. I am very bright, Brighter than the moon when it shines at night. People just do not notice this antidote of communication can be simplified simultaneously. We talk about gut intuition, but what about our heads, the headaches that we experience when the world gets too loud?

You block my entryway of changing perspectives, and your perspective is not mine. How can you be present when reality does not accept you? Just a lost, quiet, timeless organism existing without being noticed. Be here! But it is hard when there is no conversation entry. Interrupting is rude and a sign of arrogance, so why go that route? A quiet observer, primitive to being originally stoned and meshed into a wholeness of obedience.

Only talk when spoken to when there is no opportunity to open up. A shallow, easily-forgotten figure of depicted mass. You can’t let go without properly letting go in the heart first because the minds always lag behind. Your love for another human being will always be stronger than your tumorinflamed regret. At night, when the lights are turned off and no one is around, the mind wanders,

Wondering about what life could have been if you only went off into the deep end. Why didn’t you venture off into the deep end?

The eyes will start to become wet from the unrelenting thoughts of all the things you should have said and done. Now there is nothing left but your hollow body entangling itself with a broken, fractured mind. With no time left, the fleeting heart begins to anticipate the next time, but there will be no NEXT time! Just another forgotten memory forged into the chemically induced brain.

Are we destined to become a tortured insanity? With no control over what happens in the next instance? Our existence is the outcome of our socialized culture. We do not know the meaning of real beauty., The cutting edge of another person’s thoughts. So we sit quietly and assume with observations that the person beside us is an entrepreneur or something of an entity. A mandatory entertainment system that is here to reprogram the way we think.

If my light didn’t shine as bright as yours, we wouldn’t be here. The truth is, I am nothing special, and neither are you. But with the both of us shining, I start to feel an aura that ignites something inspiring.

There are a few choices when it comes to the imitation of life, and I do not think we should run away from identity.

If language is just mere words meshed, then why can’t we? Why can’t we become one without any doubt, without any consideration of what will be our future picture? You say nobody knows, or I do not know, while knowing deep down that living a lie would be nothing but selfishness. A pitying woman of a man, digressing into shattered truths, Nothing could feel better than the lies we tell ourselves every day just to get by.

Solitary

How do you feel being traded? Being left behind, while they go about their day forgetting that you even exist. That you are even still wandering lifelessly behind them. Are you satisfied with the results? They no longer know your name. They no longer know who you are because to them, you were always nothing. Traded. Discarded when the person they really wanted decided to come back into their life. Your place is no longer needed. You may go now. You may erase yourself from this environment, from this experience, so we can forget. Maybe one day, they will reminisce about the time you made them laugh, at the time you undoubtedly gave them what they wanted. But did you give them what they wanted, or did you get what you wanted? As you purposely pitied yourself to feel some type of comfort from the unbearable situation of lust and evilness. Maybe the stars are too cold for us to be down here, but you seem to forget about all your harsh necessities. Is that why they always leave you behind? Is that why, deep down in your heart, you always knew you would always be alone? It is not your fault, you say, although somehow, they all know that it is. We know that it is, yet you still deny the truth because you are too scared to face it. And maybe one day, you will decide to take a long hard look in the mirror and be reminded of everything you put them through. You will probably be reminded of your own greed and selfishness. Maybe then you will realize that soon enough, your pitied gifts and meaningless money do not mean a thing. When will you realize that buying their love will never erase the fact that you are traded? A lifeless metal that people will use as a trophy then discard in an instant. You say you used to know a guy, but have you ever known yourself? Have you ever taken the time to hold yourself able for your own fears and false accusations you hold against the world and others? Yet maybe, you will not ever because you have not realized that you traded yourself without gaining anything but a label…

Package Handler

These boxes know me like I know the back of my hand. They stay still. They know the way I patiently wait for them to curve down the conveyor belt and down into the truck. If life was an overall waiting game, then I would be waiting forever. But I missed the way they used to swim effortlessly down into my sanctuary as if there was nothing left but a clueless door shutter. You do not know me, yet everything about you tells me that there is something that I am missing. Is its self-reassurance? Am I lacking something only you know, and even though we do not know each other, maybe our souls met a long time ago? I have fallen so many times over all these boxes, but there is something about the way you help me out of the hole that was only built to destroy my peace of mind. This is not the end although I feel as though it is the last time we will ever worry about falling in love with the right person. These dreams know no limits, even in the sight of fear and angst toward what will be if I do not make the right decision. I wonder, is there really any right way in living life? Do we really experience the light at the end of the tunnel? Is it waiting for me like the way I have been waiting for you? There has always been this tension between these walls. I just have not decided to feel it immensely until now. Although there has always been this weight that I carried on my shoulders when thinking back to that sweet summer aura that I once left behind. Air conditioning flowing out and spreading its thick cold fog into the hollow room. Where these walls never knew any bearers. You and I knew how to sit back and chill for hours without wallowing into deep, dark, selfish pity. We knew that the world was already decided upon once the moment we arrived. We already knew that these lucid summer days would not last, but neither does time. Storms only know how to bring the house down, but we knew how to feel alive when everything else was deciding to fall apart. Summer nights, hanging out on the brinks of adventure. This fantasy knew no boundaries as everyone breathed out their fears and regrets because life is only worth living once. So why not give the things we have never done a try? No, it is the feeling I would get when coming over after a dreadful day of school, hoping to take a nap with you by my

side. Hoping to watch horror movies and eat the food that you graciously would make. This is what true friendship is for? Wanting to be around someone who makes you feel calmer than the air from a fan that is provided on a hot summer’s day. And maybe these boxes just do not know me enough to understand where I am coming from. They just continuously pour into my trailer without thinking about the consequences that I will face from their overflowing grief. They keep pouring out without giving me even a second’s warning, and I patiently wait for them to overtake everything that I worked so hard for. Take it all because it would relieve me of this pain that drills itself deep into the core of my mind. You will not ever stop to notice how much pain you have caused others, but you will only stop to think about the pain that people have caused you. This irony seems to always blind the truth, separating itself from the distortion of reality and fanatical illusions. These boxes do not define me, but somehow, they still try to reach the parts of me that I have not yet discovered. I often must tell myself that the reason why these boxes no longer communicate is because of my uncompromising capabilities. This is my fault; this is my fault, but I miss the way they would glide down effortlessly. Fuck using a paper towel to wipe away the sweat. I will just use my fucking shirt in hopes to wipe away the pain that I choose to forget. I will try to catch my breath, breathing without any contempt in trying to look on the brighter side. I will try to breathe through this mask as if it is the last thing that is trying to stop me. Give me some space, you big fucking box! I said please give me some space and let me try and fix the mess that I made. The air is too hot, and this mask is stopping me from attaining the main purpose of me being here. The air wraps around me like a suffocating box waiting to cave in. You are caving into my existence quietly while there is a riot churning inside of my gut. I can feel it moving, but I must keep moving to get the job done. I need to get the job done, or else there will not be enough money to go around. I need to be able to get this done so that way, I can go home feeling like I have accomplished something. The continuous flow of these evergreen leaves does not provide the right amount of oxygen that I need to survive the cross-fading flow of boxes. I feel my insides hyperventilating. I can already see what lays ahead of me if I continue to fight off all these bad emotionless thoughts that seem to come around five days a month. “Are you breathing yet?” I am not, but

for some reason, I can already taste the aftertaste of what I ate for breakfast. I can feel the sweat on the back of my tongue whispering for me to take off the face mask now. To throw it away and chug what water is left in my purple water bottle. These fight-or-flight intuitional habits begin to kick in, and all I feel like doing is sitting down. I want to sit down and give up on this fight because I am tired of never winning these effortless battles. The ones that only require honesty and communication. I am sick and tired of waiting around like I am somebody’s sitting duck waiting to be fed. Not me, but this war has taken all the breath out of me. I am too exhausted to speak, yet I have only been residing here for thirty minutes. This battle is no longer mine to fight and no longer my concern. I will leave it to the people who ordered me to do it, let them clean up this mess that I am willingly leaving behind for my own survival. I need to survive this; I must survive this to overcome my own ego. The air feels intoxicating, and I am no longer able to fight any longer. Where is the restroom? It is time for me to leave behind another fallen dream and escape the life that brought me here. A toxic remedy that double takes on my effortless well-being. I am not sick because of the weather or the drastic changes of the pandemic. If anything, I am throwing up because I no longer want to live with the hurt that tries to consume me every single day. I can feel the weight’s capacity overtaking my senses as my legs continue to feel restless. Why can life sometimes feel so overbearing and unworthy? These legs know how to walk, yet here I am stumbling over obstacles like I am unable to speak properly. My tongue knows what limitation feels like. It has stopped me from countless encounters that could have been positively rewarding. These narcissistic abilities will not quit until I choose to do something about it. These controlling thoughts that provoke me into blaming others for my own problems haunt me like the bad habit that stops a connection between two people. We are in love, but neither one of us will it it. Nobody wants to fight off what is already left behind, so why pretend that this is what we want when it is not? These toxic affairs know no boundaries, and that is probably why I catch myself standing in front of the mirror on a Sunday night, brushing my teeth for ten minutes straight. I could brush for two days straight, and the scent of your saliva will remain intact with my taste bud glands. Will it always be this way? Will I always catch myself drifting between what is real and what isn’t while coexisting during the storm of these overflowing boxes?

Restrictions

Music never drowns out the noise because all it does is cause more noise. For some reason, people come in out of my life with no regard on how to push me over nicely. No one reads the instructions. Instead, they go by what they think they already know by the first sight of my appearance. If life were that simple and getting to know someone was that easy, then maybe I would already be aware of my own self-destructing habits. The ones that cause other people to quietly float away from the sight of my well-being. “Why do I scare you?” I asked the man politely because maybe if I came off too assertive, he would mistake me for a ive-aggressive communicator with avoidant tendencies. If emotions really mattered during sex, then maybe you would already love me. Maybe you would have already been mine, but I cannot help but recognize my possessiveness. Fly, bird. Be free from what is trying to keep you from living your life. My intentions were never meant to change anyone from being who they truly desired to be. I just was hoping for you to love me the way that I secretly love you. You see, I love you in secret like a childish crush because I know deep down that if I told you the entire truth, you would not believe me. You wouldn’t try to comprehend the difference between what I am trying to tell you and the true meaning of what you are actually feeling because let’s face it, “This flame has died out.” This flame expired the day that I decided to run away from my own truth. It never ceases to amaze me how the sun never comes out again once the storm decides to take over. These fingers can go up and down your spine multiple times hoping that no other woman has dared to read you this way. Unfortunately, I haven’t been the only one to seem infatuated by your desires, so this simplistic motive is no longer something that works. My attention-seeking motives no longer work, so why should we pretend to believe in something that we both know does not exist? Why should we waste our time asking questions about a past that has already been erased?

***

Do they see me? I mean, do they even recognize the person that I am becoming? As I stare into this reflection of mine, I can faintly see the reflection of his eyes Are they disappointed in everything that I have done across my entire lifetime? I say entire because I feel like the end is near for me. They said look beyond the rainbow, but I could not help but to focus too much on the ground beneath my footsteps He stares back at me with a blank expression because he knows how it feels to be on the other side He wishes I would not think so negatively, but I cannot help but ponder on the thought of how I want to leave this world behind The gut feeling of remorse and sorrow haunts me when I wake up and before I go to sleep because I know what emotions lay ahead of me for the next day The sugar-free sorrys spread hastily across the floor as my actions toward the ones that I love begin to mold We make excuses sound like beautiful lies, but I know the difference between saying sorry and meaning it I know the difference between wanting to stay and wanting to leave The opposites sit at the tip of my tongue and exhale before I breathe any of my own lies into and out of my lungs Water like vases know no places like the staples attached to the inside of this wondrous mind

“Am I Missing Something, Sir?”

Because there is something about the way you idolize my actions as if there is something missing. Am I missing something? Did I forget to mention how fascinating this joyride feels? Did I stutter when I said thank you and that I appreciate all your efforts? Did I blink twice without giving myself a chance to blink at all?

Joyrides like these make me lust for the inevitable. I want to be free, and here I am being free. Surrounded by positive vibrations that I wish resided deep within me. I wish that I were able to just let go of these hidden barriers that keep me from opening to the happiness of the moment.

Dreams do come true because when I stare at you, I realize that the truth in finding yourself is to be a clearheaded individual. She achieved two of her biggest dreams while at the same time, inspiring me to do more with my life.

This must be what it feels like to have a sincere group of friends. Especially when living your life is at its highest peak. What is a prime? Is there a way to make your entire life your prime time? Can we live in this moment forever without ever thinking about what slows us down at the end of the night? I can be lost, sure, but fuck the feeling of being found because we are just too lost in the moment to even care.

We say, “It is too hard for me to get comfortable around other people.” When the truth is, getting comfortable around others is not that hard. It is never too easy, but there comes a point in our life where we must realize that we are choosing to either be present or remain stuck in our minds.

Sii Libero

The body grows until it is time to decay Until it is time to forget memories The thoughts that we could not stand to bear Are now dismissive and coherently silent The mind is like an eroding rock It decays through process And we will forever be a cigarette That will soon be nothing but ashes and dust

“You can grow and learn as much as you want.” “Or you can decide to learn nothing at all, but you will still grow.” You will still understand your rights from wrongs There will be days where you will stand short And on others, you will stand tall

After all, the ending of an unfilled romance is like an endless trance of depicted pictures These memories are nothing but lifeless ghosts existing in rooms that are now filled with self-doubt

We can fly high and touch the stars, but nothing will make us forget where we came from Where you come from Where I come from So forget about what happened and just know that you will be all right I will be all right We will move on and let go of everything that holds us back Fly, love. Now be free.

I Will RISE

I said I will rise like the sun does in the morning Put away the boxes of tissues and quit mourning Over the thought of you The endless paragraphs that are meshed with glue No longer have the permission to survive in my landmines

I said I will rise and forgive myself for being a fool A fool over you and the ones who have done nothing but leave This romance is a solo program that is outdated, and I will rise I SAID I WILL RISE WITH THE TREES And touch the sky more than once

Follow in the footsteps of my ancestors and love myself for me This love I possess is not worth your time nor your energy Since I am not the one for you Then you are no longer the one for me

May you rise and reach your fullest potential

I am wishing you nothing but sweet credentials And a love that is worth your spirit A love so good it slips deep into your soul That you genuinely feel it and feel as though you constantly need to be near it

Together may we RISE

Hello, Lover

Hey, love. I hope today that you are feeling alive and well I hope the sun is shining just right on your front porch That the summer breeze is caressing your skin with the right touch But most of all, I hope you are living and growing more each day And I say, “May you realize that you are freer than you can be.”

Hey, love. I hope you understand that I loved you with all my heart I wanted you to be someone who was forever apart of my world Who was supposed to be my man, and me your woman? But even though nothing went as expected I am still grateful for getting the chance to know you

Hey, lover. I am spilling the milk and cleaning it up my own self I am opening my windows and clearing out the air Taking out the trash and rolling it down to the curb I am washing my skin and meditating in cold showers I am spending hours out in my mind’s garden Releasing any negative energy for the sake of letting you go

Hey, lover. You had a hold on me for such a long time But I must cut it short now and say goodbye Say farewell to everything I ever cherished about you I have to say, “You are one of a kind.” Someone that I would hope to love and be loved by Next lifetime…

^^^

A breath of fresh air came through her window Showing her new ways of the world Telling her secrets and exposing wishes gently This must be better than the feeling of reminiscing

Something far grander than sitting back and resting Because the air against her face Reminds her of a place she once saw Somewhere far from here, somewhere obscure

A place that did not matter much to anyone But her This is not your worst fear Or a priceless burden

It is your heartbeat working Your footsteps chirping like the birds She tries to explain her thought process

But never seems to find the right words

Instead of me talking about myself

Tell me how your mind works How it begins to shut down at night What calming edges crease your inner well-being When your soul is existing in plain sight?

I said, “I will sit here for as long as I feel the need.” Until the dramatic pauses stop and emotion sensors begin to bleed out. Until the favoritism has left the room bare and our vibe stale. Are you all right? I said, “Wow, the trees know how to sway to the left as if that is all that is left of them.” What else could they possibly need? What else could you possibly want? The clouds have no doubts when they are about to introduce a raging storm. So why wait until the sun decides to come back again? These rays can shine as bright as they want, but would that make you want to flaunt the things that you don’t have? He just wanted to see what the sky looked like before its cup decided to overflow. She just wanted to pour more of her heart out as if it was worth getting to know.

And I guess the truth can hurt so much that it forces two people to let go at once. Maybe the useless thoughts that never get said in person are the main words that could possibly keep the friendship working. Although in the end, we never truly know if all that ever mattered is fully said and done.

Thinking

He thought it was fear at first; like many other times, fear was all he felt. All of it until finally, yes, he ended it. Now that it has been a while since things were set and done, he sees now. I guess you could say attached he was, clinging to another breath of life. Life full of breathing with certain reframed smells. Now that everything is set and done with the past, he looks back every now and again. Maybe perhaps often, looking for something to cry over. To feel like a victim in his own demise. Could it be true? To enter another dimension and feel pure? Like other mistakes, this one is so unsure of yet revealing. As if the truth stands right in front of him. Then I look at it. “This is self-blame, is it not?” Blaming himself for something that ended, was he the one who hurt the other? The woman he claimed to love. Yes, it seems like that. I dig a little deeper, trying not to overthink when this itself is overthinking. Is there any way we can merely investigate his mind and see what he tries not to think about? Not necessarily for the negative outcome but for his own sanity. He must move on, but I am confused on how to help him. Will he ever decide to move on so that way, we can be happy together? I love him so much that I want to see him happy and see him smile often. When I notice that he still is not over her, deep down, I get this aching feeling of sadness. Some days feel lonelier than others. It is as if he does not even exist anymore. Better to be found, but it is like he does not want to be found at all. Lost—when he gets lost, it reminds me of being bitten by someone bitter. My words do not get through to him because he is still mourning over the thought of her. I do not need someone to remind me constantly of how beautiful I am, but I realize he does not validate me at all. He gives me no compliments during the day nor at night. Instead, I try to boost his ego as much as possible so that way, he can feel some type of reassurance. Something to let him know that he is at least good enough for me. At first, it felt so good, then I started thinking if I should continue to gas him up. Lately, anything I say or do does not work like it used to. I cannot get him through his previous heartbreak.

Now I am not saying that he is not close to being fully healed. For I am on the edge of giving up on the multiple ways that I could possibly make him completely forget about her. I pine for his attention every day, and sometimes it hurts to know that he may never let her go. I say that I am feeling okay with the fact that he still is not over her, but I lied. The images of her and him will not leave his mind. It is as if he is trapped in his previous relationship. He refuses to see the good in what he has now. I am constantly reminded of how amazing their relationship used to be, hoping that he would stop bringing it up. Then the gut of mine twists me up with the feeling of sadness. Because I know what something like that would lead to afterward. Sadness and regret. Not even the word regret itself, but something close to it. It has been four years now, and he is still grieving over her. I personally feel like I could run away from all my problems including him if I could. He does not seem to notice how I could give up on him and our relationship in the blink of an eye, but he remains oblivious. The shame and the sadness are like a bundle of knots tied up in my stomach. His destructive habit of self-pity seems to be eating away at what is left of me. I would absolutely love it if he would just move on now and choose to be happy for us. He is free from the grips of his ex, yet he still chooses to reminisce and miss the memories of her. If I were him, I would not miss it because she was verbally abusive and refused to be submissive toward his masculine identity. Treating him as if he were nothing but a peasant that could not have no self-respect. He had to leave that relationship, or it was going to destroy him. And who am I kidding, he is already destroyed. He mentally cannot handle the thought of trying to move on because she took everything he offered, everything he had to his name. He used to tell me all about it, and every time, I would feel so sad for him; but now I feel nothing. He has drained me to the core. I gave him all that I had in hopes that he would decide to be better. In hopes that he would realize that he deserves better, but instead, all that he has given me is sheepish self-pity and bad habits. Please do not get me wrong. I genuinely wish he would snap out of it and recover. But like I said, it has been four years, and still nothing has improved. I just want him to be okay. I want us to be okay. I am tired of him thinking and bringing her up every single chance he gets. After a while, things begin to get old and seasons begin changing and looks begin fading. The main reason why I am still with him is because he needs someone, and I am desperate enough to

keep him. I knew from the start what I was getting into. In fact, I felt like I was somewhat prepared for the worst. Although now I realize that I am not as prepared as I thought I was. I cannot just sit here and wish kind things for him anymore and pretend like he will finally choose us over his past. How can we be together when he does not even care enough to try and be grateful for what blessings he does have? I have made him and his ego my top priority from the beginning, and all he has done is take from me and continue to feel needy for someone to console his hurt feelings. Not once did he ever ask me about my feelings or what is on my mind. Not once did he choose to wake up and feel thankful to have me sleeping by his side. He never once decided to make me feel good about myself. Instead, it was always about himself and about what he wanted. What he thought and how he felt. Maybe I am just a warm body to him or an open vessel made to listen to all his problems sincerely. To be honest, I genuinely cannot anymore. Our days grow shorter, but we are both still young. I try to tell him that we still have our whole lives ahead of us, so why let our pasts slow us down? He never seems to understand, just brushes me off, and goes back to his bad habits. During the day, when he is wallowing in self-pity toward his last relationship, I find myself doing the same with ours. I walk past the mirror in the bathroom and catch a glimpse of the hidden resentment in my face. Here I am feeling out of place because I thought being desperate enough for a man would fill this empty space in my heart. Little did I know he was as desperate as I was, and it is tearing me apart…

Reflections

These stars can only hold onto us for so long. Eventually, they will lose their grip, and we both shall begin to fall. Will we fall into a boat that is trapped somewhere out in sea? Or instead, will we fall deep into the depths of self-love?

Dear mirror and me, Is this what it feels like when no one else is around to disturb our sanity? The fade in the background shows how close we were, and now my reflection is nowhere in sight. But we were so close to the outer equator of finding our true selves. Now we are stuck in this relentless position, sitting in front of the mirror Hoping to find a sense of purpose through our own reflection.

Dear reflection and me, Please reflect on how many times in a day I neglect my own appearance. Someone please just tell me the truth even if I do not want to hear it. This must be what it feels like when you abandon self-respect. All we do is sit in front of our reflection waiting, but what are we waiting for?

I saw my reflection a long time ago in his eyes, but he did not notice. When we lost our grip among the stars and fell, that is when I lost his gaze. I was too amazed at how infatuated and complete I felt. And now all I do is stare back into my own eyes, searching for me. We were so close to the other side, and now I have no control over what happens next.

Brainstorming

To be or not to be, sometimes we must make a choice or find something Find the letters pouring out of the glass of spilled milk Find what everyone else has been searching for, for years Find them blinking away at the sawdust that is gleamingly stale Find what I don’t know to bear in a heartbeat

Like the hourglass, the bottle is shaped like something we all think of as perfect Born to be something other than perfect Born to love someone who is perfect Born to be, born to be, born to be…perfect

Never really thought of how engrossed the time of numerals shifted throughout a clock Never really thought of how pretty someone truly is when you have not laid eyes on them in a while Never really thought of the circumstances I am permitting to I never really thought about the thought that I was supposed to think about

When all is true and there is nothing left but heartbroken lies, where are we to help? When there is nothing left but skies with downfalls, who are we to love? When there is nothing but the moon surrounding our aura, where will the stars go? No place like home, but what is home when all we do is separate ourselves from the things that keep us sane? What is home, when one home can become easily forgotten? Like the feel of someone’s heart beating underneath the palms of your hands But do not let me be forgotten from the world that claims me as my own profit They say, “Only human” as if my spirit does not take any ability for causing me to be different In the present moment, we can choose to be mindful or stay behind the crowded conversations that are happening right before our eyes

“Everyone who is aware and here in this present moment, please stay here.”

Here, but maybe on second thought, I am not We can be here and there at the same time, so why not do both? To be there without everyone else means I would be missing out on the fun places and bright faces that used to greet me at the front door

A happy rejoiced greeting is what one wants, right? To see the smile on another person’s face light up because you have entered the

room To them, you are their favorite person to see But to yourself, you’re just another guy going about his day

Like everyone else, but you are not like everyone else, and you know that They know that, but no one ever asks you No one ever asks, “Why are you so different?” Instead, they just say, “With you, it’s different.”

Clouded Perspectives

A cloud with a loud mind is dangerous when no one is looking. The silence it portrays in front of an audience is toxic, yet simultaneously beautiful. What is held in between all of that built-up condensation? Maybe the rain is too heavy to fall, so it refuses to open and let go.

The mind of a cloud is like an ocean. It is too deep. You will never know what to expect once it allows you to sink through it. It is like a missing puzzle piece waiting to be found. Once you find it, you will realize that it wasn’t that interesting to begin with.

It offers shades from the past to overcast the following weather report. Can a cloud be so predictable? The judgment of a cloud is clumsy, doing things to stay face with the sky. Faking the funk just to get by.

This cloud could compensate for your daydreams. Shadow your thoughts and suffocate your depicted reality.

Tell you its false description of what is right and wrong. In hopes to cloud your own judgment through mind games and manipulation.

You were only telling it to the sky, but the clouds overheard everything. Enter through a cloud, and you would find that they are truly empty. Floating aimlessly in a direction of endless possibility. Covering the royal-blue sky like a thick cotton cloak.

Have you ever seen a cloud burst at the seams, like an egg cracking for the yolk? When under pressure, a cloud will have no choice but to open. Embrace the flow of rain and cry over it unapologetically. The feeling of getting rained on due to misguided vices.

They will instigate a storm no matter how high the price is. Open and let it all out just for show. Then turn around and call it their way of officially letting go. Why hurt others within this process?

But you rather fully understand its logic. Drill through the mind of a cloud, and you will find out it is utterly toxic Polluted and diluted into a chemical force that knows no boundaries.

Raining and overpowering the shine of the sun.

A pessimistic piece of cotton candy that refused to be eaten. Constantly used for the time being, an umbrella for temporary shade. A cloud with no limits is an analytical thinker. Their perspective is a diamond in the rough, but to an alpha or beta, they’re weaker.

A cloud that sits alone is nothing but a ball of insecurity patiently waiting… Waiting for something or someone to grant them the opportunity of therapeutic confidence. The cloud holds back the urge, wishing to just disappear within the sky remotely. But you will never notice this because to you, they are just “clouds” that float on by strikingly.

The Pianist

The windows are open to let in the crowded summer breeze. Even though you cannot breathe throughout the suffocating heat, our plants are dying. That is why I have been trying to revive them. By letting the piano play on this beautiful summer day.

Let the keys ring deep into the core of their roots. The flutter of each stroke knows how to maneuver their sound into the vessels of what is left. The sounds of the piano and the silence of the plants intermingle, and before you know it, they have finally gained a mutual understanding. Now when the piano plays, the awakening sound is no longer demanding and forceful. It is all a coherent harmony that has been fulfilled through the trials and tribulations of destiny. Maybe this is what fate is meant to feel like, when I am gliding my fingers across the piano keys effortlessly. Hoping that the sound of music heals and embraces everything that is broken. Music to make plants grow. Music strumming its sound up against everything that is calling out for help. Music to help the plants grow stronger.

Music to help the plants grow taller. In hopes that the heart will grow fonder…

Generational Curses

Holding onto something that would probably never happen is like patiently waiting for the next season of your favorite show to come on Netflix. You waste time obsessing over the thoughts of what it will be like. You daydream about how it would make you feel in the present moment, but all you can do is wait anxiously.

Within the midst of waiting, you seem in control of your feelings and emotions until the thought of what you are holding onto starts eating away at your mind. Your thought process is now tainted with blurred lines of what-ifs and should’ves and would’ves. But all you can do is sit back and let these intense feelings take control of your entire being. No resistance. Just you and your obsessive thoughts of the things that are no longer present in your life.

You become so intertwined with what is not real that you forget the real you. People start fading away because you end up pushing them away. Once you realize this, it will already be too late. They will already be gone. And you will be here, existing pleasantly enough to get through life day by day. They say it is the new age, but you know it is just another day. They try to convince you to change, but you know the only thing that ever truly

changes is time.

You slowly erode like a rock because time seems to be wasting you. So young, yet the only thing you truly regret is not successfully belonging to the now and present moments. They say practicing mindfulness is a way to recovery, but you know that the only thing you have done close to practicing mindfulness is sleep. Somehow you always seem to be awake and present in your dreams more than you are awake. Holding onto something that would probably never happen is like playing the lottery. You are at odds when it comes to winning, so why try? There is nothing greater than receiving the prize, but you know that your value should be of the same extent. They judge you thinking that they are the first ones to do so, but little do they know, you judged yourself before you even gave them the chance to.

Eventually, you will conclude that this heartache was nothing but an endless cycle. Familiar to the ones who used to walk in your shoes. Your mother is familiar with the pain but remains keeping it a secret. Your grandmother knows about the lonely nights and the unspeakable mornings. Your aunts understand the feelings of bitterness as if it were a cheap thrill. Like the ancestors that rely on you to break the hindering chain, you remain stuck in this pattern of waiting for something that was never yours to begin with.

They watch you make the same mistakes that they did, hoping that you do not have to learn the hard way. Unfortunately, you have already jump-started the freight train, especially when your mind stays on the time travel of memory lane. But we have all been here before, the desperate attic waiting to be restored. We all have questioned our own self-respect, hoping that we could break the cycle.

Bad habits can be broken, but it hurts even more when it has turned into a painful addiction. You start relying on the text or the call or the random pop-ups. When neither of these happens, you are stuck in an absent state of mind. You cannot stay present. When they do happen, you only enjoy yourself for a little while while noticing that these people never meant to make you happy.

You realize that you were never truly happy with yourself and that it was not them that was causing all this self-destruction. It was not even you; it was just the blood that runs through your veins and the late-night growing pains. Like I said, an endless chain that has been ed down in the family for years. The door of self-doubt and self-pity has never been shut, so it remains open. Hoping to lure another innocent person’s life down a path of self-destruction and heartache.

So it isn’t about the man that you lust after or the man that doesn’t seem to love you back. It is about the generational curse that makes the women in your family lack the ability of self-love and respect. Your ancestors know about it because every day, they try to tell you through simple cues and signs. They warn you about it when you get a gut feeling about something that does not feel right.

They try to tell you about it when you find yourself unable to sleep at night. They try to give you examples by showing you how following down a certain road leads to a lifelong decision that they were stuck and had to live in. Don’t you get it? That deciding not to remain oblivious to the problems that previous women in your family had to deal with is the first step in honoring them?

When you choose to start breaking that cycle, you are subconsciously telling your ancestors that their lives mattered just as much as yours does. You heal their wounds when you finally start deciding to heal yours. You heal your mother’s wounds when you start choosing to live a healthy life. You wash away your aunt’s pain when you start washing away yours.

You uplift your sisters and help guide them when you start uplifting yourself. You break the cycle of endless heartache when you finally take into ability of what has been overshadowed for centuries.

The Soul of a Weeping Willow Tree

A voyager stranded in the middle of nowhere understands that the sun will eventually go down and that night will soon come. He knows that despite the harsh circumstances, everything will be fine, and things will turn out all right. He does not need reassurance from the sky to tell him which way to go. He feels no need in looking up at the stars, hoping to see the moon in full bloom. A voyager with no plans in reconciling with his past is lost. He is unable to be fully equipped for future relationships because to him, he has no ion. Without ion, he cannot exculpate his guilt from his mistakes. Making him unable to fully inherent the ability of wanting to feel empathy for another person. So despite his flawed misfortune, he wanders aimlessly. He does this with no intentions of finding anything or anyone. He simply does it for ambiguous pleasure, something to set him free from what is slowly eating away at him. If people were able to recognize his pain throughout the creases of his ebullient facade, they would find out that he is a frightened echo. When he walks, his shoes make the noise of a thousand warriors trying to find their way home. They say that home is not a place but rather a heart of an odd soul, but he feels like home is a place where a heart used to reside. And maybe this heart resided somewhere in between the lines, which explains why he chooses to wander. With nothing guiding him but his feet, he starts wondering about the what ifs. Like what if something were to come along his path of apathy and show him how to finally live? What if someone were to speak wise words upon his fragmented mind? He is so weary, and his shoulders feel heavy because his mind is not silent. He is an abrasive thinker. People can’t have a conversation with just him. They have to have it with his thoughts too. Which explains why no one can properly get through to him. He continues to wander into the abyss, trembling from dehydration. Wishing that he had just stayed home in his room instead of reacting out of impulse, but here he is. Wandering. A voyager has never seen a willow tree but instantly catches the glimpse of its outer beauty. Not even the stars are able to shoot down wishes toward the ones who desire to have the things they do not possess. This connection is subtle yet fatal to what he will soon experience. If he decides to stay and emulate what the

willow tree has to offer, he will be granted a purpose. If he decides to leave, he will simply go about his day and continue to feel lost. The willow tree weeps and sways to the beat of wind. While at the same time, vocalizing its swaying into a rhythmic song. This catches him off guard, and he is now stuck in a trance because he has never seen a sight like this before. All his life, he felt used to the same old people and the same old sights. Everything he once knew seemed so dull and boring that this euphoric sight made him feel an odd sense of excitement. A voyager observed the willow tree as if the existence of it is of a different world beyond this realm. Something began pulling him closer toward the tree, and at first, he hesitated to follow his gut reaction to go underneath it. Until he impulsively let go of holding back and followed his intuition. The willow tree started swaying even more to the beat of the wind as he stood underneath, protected by its powerful swaying branches. He finally feels safe and still. His mind grew silent, and for once, he was able to exist in the present moment without anything holding him back. He was able to observe without any expectations of what to expect from the willow tree. His heart never required him to feel such emotions so intensely because of his shallowness, but something about this willow tree was making him feel the need to stay. He did not feel like leaving, so he walked around underneath the willow tree, iring the feeling. He always felt indifferent toward wisdom, so he always used his own logic when it came to deciding what to do in life. This prevented him from gaining a purpose, a reason to stay living without the intense feeling of being lost. Being underneath the willow tree felt different, as if there were no barriers preventing him from growing. The lack of empathy he felt that he had soon became a clear notion of self-pity. He was just purposely trying to make himself out to be this monster when he isn’t that all that bad. Being underneath the tree felt like he was rediscovering parts of himself that he overlooked years ago. He traced his fingers up against the tree, feeling its spine. He traced his finger across its roots and smiled faintly as their souls began to intertwine. The loving caresses of what he thought he would never experience came back to him ionately. Is it a hiding place or a sacred place where he can go to heal? A place where he can hide when the world seems too heavy to carry. When the lonely nights eat

away at his dreams because his mind refuses to sleep. A voyager tries to make sense of this bewilderment only to find himself in one position, and that is facing the willow tree helplessly. He never was the type to beg for help, but something about the tree draws him in and secludes his masculinity. He just wants to be heard. He just wants to be felt. He just wants to be seen, and it seems like no one can understand this part about him. So he begs the tree for help, and it begins to weep with sorrowful wisdom, trying to calm the storm that a voyager is stuck in. It sways to the rhythm of his painful cries as he buries his face into the bosom of its soul. The soul of the weeping willow opened and allowed him to drink from its pool of wisdom and strength. While stroking his back gently, as the humming sounds of the branches reminded him of who he was before he became a lost voyager. They told him secrets about himself that he once forgot and reassured him that he was worth it. The branches showed him how even though hope was forgotten, it will soon be ed. Same as the people who are always left behind by those who move on to something new. A voyager knelt among the tree and began to open his eyes to everything he buried away from his past. He uncovered his truth with the help of the weeping willow tree. He finally was able to get up and wipe away his shed tears. The ones that he had held back for so many years.

Afterward

In blank openness, I reveal the office bogus. Step on stones while begging them to focus. Have you ever thought of something else, like roaming away? He said longing is what he wanted to be felt.

Looking in from the outside. Calming all my doubts from where they once resided. The eager confidence is floating where I once confided… Lying in bed, drowning in words of music that are not spoken.

Not said, but I just cannot stop repeating this defeating obsession. Crying over someone who has been long gone. Dreaming of someone from my own conscience. In my dreams, he said that he still loved me. What a coincidence.

The awful truth is felt in my gut. When I try to feel it away, the wheels ram into a rut. The awful silence is like pain still wanting to be eaten.

The memories leave me brutally beaten.

Emotions mixed with feelings inside my faded room. Colors mixing and matching from spiked mushrooms. The closet in my bedroom bears witness to my holy mess.

Anyone’s for Anyone

how the sun would shine during the day with brightness that shines into a person’s eyes as they try to concentrate on schoolwork? Attention is way too stingy for us to give up on our studies. Impossible to even cover our faces from the beauty of the sun’s rays, so it continues to shine. Trying to get everyone’s attention while slowly coming in and slowly coming out of the room. The sun brightens up the room then takes away all the light with just one show. Soon enough, distractions start to creep up on shoulders. Areas of the room that once felt colder become warm. You start to feel the heat through the thickness of a sweater. Breathe as everyone breathing breathes throughout the air altogether as one. By then, the tangled rays have reached every inch of the room, including the dark unused corners. Wall paintings start to melt from the waistline, past the belt. Oh, and school is important, and studying is a need; but the sun’s beautiful rays remain to be a tease. Sunny rays on school days cannot quit. One moment you are serious about that certain career, then a second after, you start to feel over it. Why can’t we just enjoy the feeling of the sun and all her endeavors? No matter how many times people continue to push it away, somehow the sun ceases to make someone’s day. All sunny wants are some sweet attention without any certain cost because energy is free. At least. It is supposed to be. Glance one, glance two, glance three, glance four. Students begin to stop studying and participate in observing the sun some more. Smiles upon their faces as the sun vibrantly embraces the expression of a student who gratefully says, “Without you shining your ways, we wouldn’t receive any warmth on summer days. These timeless seasons continue to go on, and for 365 days, you continue to remain strong. Brighter to bitter blooming, sometimes the coldness appears. Days sometimes feel gloomy, yet you still choose to show up for us. When the plants die and the tree leaves fall, you show up around the corner of the sky, waiting to shine above us all. From this day forward, we promise to not take your shining spirit for granted anymore.”

Open the Fuck Up

I would want to be your friend to talk to you. Just imagine what we could be if you would only open your mind. If not, then I can at least tell you what I picture about the entire situation. Sometimes, we give our attention away to the people who really do not care. We pretend that they do, so we keep showing them that we care. Meanwhile, they continuously back off silently. It is as if we lust for those who are opposite of us while knowing that they are simply unavailable. We create a happily ever after, pretending to be okay with the fact that they will never truly accept us for who we are. They will never care to see us or to even speak to us. But we remain okay with the fact that we are still friends who have turned into complete strangers. Our inboxes toward each other, laid empty with no sign of communication. Everything between us remains silent, and the illusion of communicating remains nonexistent. Why can’t you just open the fuck up? I mean, twist your thoughts; make them do the tango onto mine. Give me what I clearly want to find. Spread your mind apart and confess your secrets. Pretend for once that you care about what I have to say. Give me something that I clearly cannot have, and that is you. How I wish it were you. There is a rage inside of me when you refuse to open up.

When everything I try to say does not keep up the conversation. Why can’t I keep up the fucking conversation? There is a rage that dives deep into a soft scenery when all I want is you. But I fail to imagine you saying those things to me…

Take Care

I should really take care of myself better. Lately, I have gone days without showering. I can smell my body odor as if it is a heavy perfume. It lingers in the air all around me, following me everywhere I go. And they think I do not notice it, but I do. I know why I do not take care of myself anymore. It is because sometimes I do not feel like it. I lay restless in bed, wishing I was not like this. Wishing that I could grab a piece of motivation to get out of bed, but I stop myself every time I feel the rush. I would take the time to apologize to myself, but maybe going about this route was a good thing. Maybe it will give me the opportunity to learn more about myself as a person. The excuses I give myself to continue down a path of selfdestruction, something I have always been good at. I mean, what can I say? I let things happen while struggling to contain my eager self of esteem that keeps me away from ending my suffering. If I choose to heal, the process will take away these bad habits of overthinking. If I ever try to let these given desires and advantages float away, would you know? Because I have not taken a shower for three days and my skin misses the way the water feels when it hits my neck. You know that I smell. My presence comes with a stench that I am unable to contain, so do not sit by me. Do not sit by me! I smell of a stench that is screaming, “Help me!” How can I beg for help when there is not no one to beg? When there is not no one to go to? I am sorry for my diluted perfume and outdated deodorant, if only it was real. But you know that it hurts. Seeing myself do this to myself. And past the obvious fragrance, I wonder if anyone ever notices the way I search for help without vocally asking. “Can you stop?” is what I would ask myself. “No, I can’t…”

Everyday Glances

I could not help but notice how I see you out the corner of my eyes every day. In fact, I have to pretend sometimes that I do not see you at all, but I do. And I think that you notice me too. We just both refuse to acknowledge each other, yet we have come across paths many times.

I know your morning routine since our lockers are by each other. I see you. I see all that you do. Your makeup. The smell of your perfume, and I cannot help but to compare how we both care about our self-images. As I unintentionally follow you into the girl’s restroom and thank God that the restroom is close enough.

So that way, no one suspects what we came in to do… You look in the mirror, fixing yourself, but I do not judge because I do the exact same thing. I look into the mirror, looking for something to fix, and instead, all I can see is nothing but what is already there. I guess you could say, if we walk two by two and make a crowd, maybe people would not get suspicious and detect my low self-esteem.

We go about our day pretending as if everything is okay.

Toxic Airfalls

I do not like it, period. Would never buy it because the price is too high. Something that does not please the eyes. A heartless brain purposely keeping me steady. Oh no, but wait. He was never ready, and that is okay. Never wanted you to stay anyway.

Digging bones with stupid whispers while shuttering out condensed milk manes. The tires caught the slashes because it was not me that was wet; it was these lashes. Your entire motion is nothing but clutter and a distraction. Did I stutter when I refused to give you your desired reaction?

We like picking these tiring fights where we find ourselves being knights in a game of open-minded chess. Never been a fool, but underneath the wrath of you, I feel submitted toward your foolishness. We act like role-playing is better than pretending to enjoy each other’s company. Do you believe me when I say that I need you even when I do not feel lonely?

We fight the urge and cut each other off without any hesitation of what will

happen next. Moving on with our lives while trying to achieve some type of progress, yet… You remain the same. I remain the same. When we enter back into the game of toxic airfalls.

I tell you about my wants and desires, and you do the same. But deep down, we both know that in the end, we will feel nothing but pain. A secrecy like yours and a secrecy like mine is unable to fit in this paradox we call time.

I

Am like

Gravity.

You keep being pulled toward my center

Every time you fucking enter

The room

These built-up emotions

Keep bringing

Me to my doom

If love

Isn’t supposed to feel this way

Then why am I constantly

Attracted to you?

!!!

The moon could drop down toward the atmosphere, causing a conjunction of destruction. It could crash against this atmospheric sky, and you still wouldn’t recognize me. We could stand five feet apart, and I would still want you.

Why not me?

I’ve seen your glow within the mystic form of channeling surfaces. I have witnessed your movements as they tend to mine because you know that I know that I am normally not quiet.

The moon could burst at the seams, causing a riot filled with emotionless streams. And my voice will grow silent because I will continuously wonder: Why not me?

Now Can You Truly Tell the Truth?

Let go of everything holding you back and uncover the flaws that lay hidden in your life. Can you look that person in the eyes and feel a sense of forgiveness? Even if they’ve never offered an apology to soothe away your tears.

You go outside, and you look at your neighbor’s yard, envying how green their grass looks. Wishing that yours looked the same way, wishing that it felt the same way.

You feel the need to run away from what is causing you to feel so low. Only to realize that there is no difference in both sides of the fence. You just haven’t been watering your side, so now the grass is crippling away. And yet all you do is sit back and envy others, wishing that you could have the same. Be the same. Do the same. Achieve the same.

No one is around to tell you the difference because we all experience some type of envy. But you.

You seem to experience an envy that lusts for the fallen ion that you once felt.

You hang around your neighbor’s yard, feeling hopeless and bent out of shape because you’ve fallen inside the grass.

Can you tell the truth?

Can you look at yourself and it that your grass isn’t green because you haven’t been watering your side?

Unexpected Connection

She was sitting across the table from me, gazing at her phone and smiling. I couldn’t help but hesitate at the thought of embracing her quality of selfrecognition. For a year and two months, we were ed at the hip. Connected within a force that was incapable of being destroyed by anyone or anything. What were we trying to form inside of our hearts? Her face was always plain and subtly grim, but I loved her anyway. Her laugh soared over the entire library as we sat and conversed for hours. Our connection felt alive. With no doubt, both of us were able to be free souls. All we ever wanted was to find a purpose in this world. So instead of recruiting myself into a desolate isolation, I let her float into my atmosphere with no expectations. And little did I know that she would decide to stay for more than just a while but for eternity.

Invisible Grudges

Your hands started to grow cold, no more room for heat. I thought about how your eyes paid attention to mine, so deliberate yet intense. At first, I thought I was the one that was hiding in plain sight. Purposely trying to make myself invisible while still remaining visible to those that choose to look in my direction. Over the months of noncommunication, our database was silent. In person, we refused to speak, but our eye was loud and obnoxious. Constantly evading the spaces in my mind without my consent. If love were a pity party full of fallen hope, you would be the star of the show. The main character who is absorbed through his entire audience. Sorry to be “frank,” but I have no room for lost hope and shallow attitudes toward life’s meaning. I don’t want to hover over unwritten subjects that refuse to fill my cup with the love and joy that is needed. And you can ponder as hard as you want, but I will still remain invisible. Unable, in order for you to understand that “love” could have been meant for us. Together, we could have grown into a bond that would have been far out of touch. This is not revenge or a hate speech that holds a grudge. This is a manner of hesitation because when love opens its doors, you should choose wisely. Look beyond the point of confusion, frustration, and sorrow so that way, you can try to understand that you can find love again. You can find love again, but somewhere that is not…here.

My heart starts beating fast While wishing moments like These would last forever However, I’m cautiously surprised

By how nauseous my love Can be Deep into the shallows of an open wide sea See, I’m never alone

When roaming in Rome Well, maybe so, but I can’t let go Cause my heart starts to pump And I feel flies of butter in my gut

No matter what, I’m floating If you win and I lose I’m boasting on media platforms ’Cause your footsteps are getting closer

So my blood pressure preforms For an everlasting snowfall Bring us all down When you’re spinning around

I’m losing my step Forgetting promises that we kept And I can’t forget No, I won’t forget I said I wouldn’t forget I’m not going to forget your memory

Our chemistry

The times that we spent

Loving our love distances from afar

Sit and Stare

I’ll sit and watch the tall grass sway with the wind I’ll wait for the sun to burn me away

To motivate

You know and I know we anticipate the vibes

The vibes that the fall wind brings Air me away, like how the nightfall turns into dust

When morning light hits our window panes

’Cause we all grow and then combust

Like love does for lust

Like an ex who comes back just for sex Let me complete that cycle and rebuild the dirt

With two strings being tied into knots Love tangles and intertwines so that way, feelings do not get caught

So that way, we don’t get hurt… Maybe pain could be written and broken into two.

One four me and one for you. Don’t stop now. I think I’m falling in love With YOU

Sinking Holes

There is a sinking hole that has been left uncovered, and no one knows about it A void that is selfishly waiting to be filled by something We play tug-of-war with our emotions until one of us decides to expose the truth You stop being vulnerable And I start to become a loose cannon, ready to explode at any moment We act like no mountain isn’t high enough, but our fights are higher ’Cause all we do is play the silent-treatment game Trying to decide which one of us is to blame for the bad connection Wishing that our love could handle another resurrection, but we can’t And you won’t, and I refuse to try To lie about the feelings that I never felt, and you go about putting up a facade against the truth We try to look back into our own secluded lives, trying to figure out if the main problems reside in our youths But nothing is clear You refuse to hear me out It is like my words don’t even deserve to be heard I can scream, and I can shout how I feel out loud; but you still won’t hear me So I refuse to give you what you want

And you refuse to be who I need you to be Here we go again, living together while this void expands Every day, it gets wider, and I can feel you slowly drifting away You try to reach out, but all I can do is turn the other way We are oblivious to this entity that seems to be ruining us You know that you feel it hovering over us like a shadow from a nearby tree I try to bring us into the light, but you never feel like stepping out

Attention Seeker

We chase our dreams until we start to feel our knees give out, but our timing may never be right. We are supposed to be chasing dreams, but I find myself chasing the sight of cars driving up alongside me. Wishing that it were me driving one of those cars. If only I had a car, but then again, maybe our timing isn’t right. I find myself reminiscing with each new car that es me by. We exchange eye and quick glances. Soon enough, I start to feel as if I am playing a game of charades. Maybe I’ll start running to enhance my chances. “This is it,” I say to myself as I begin to cross the street. Wishing that crossing the street was just as easy as saying hello to a random stranger that you meet. Despite the utter feeling of chaos from all the cars zooming by, I know that deep down, I will make it eventually to the other side. There has to be another side. Right? Crossing the street at the stoplight is like a death penalty. Jaywalking is much safer. No one wants to it it, but it is. I am as different as the next, but when I am walking up against traffic, I am a spinelike creature waiting to be seen.

I am like the rebirth of a movie scene that got deleted, and each car that es me by cannot wait to see it. This orgasmic rush of ing cars leaves me restless. I could walk this line for days and still feel incapable of slowing down. Is there a turn-off button for such tragic misconceptions? Or am I just an attention-seeking walker that loves the way the sun illuminates its fluorescence onto the ing by of cars?

Talk to Me

I’m waiting for you to jump-start the conversation and prove to me that you are here. But your mind is not present because the way you stare pensively out of the window is showing me that you’d rather be there. I’m waiting for you to say something, anything to get me going. Say something so that way, I can quickly respond. Is it because I am not responsive? Why can’t I be a little more responsive when it comes to these types of situations? But…I feel like I’ve been waiting for more than just a little while. I can feel a wall forming in between the two of us, and neither one of us is stopping its growth. You know, and I know, that it needs to be stopped but…I can slowly feel it making its way to the top. I can sense the purpose of this divide, but I wish it weren’t like this. Why does it have to be like this? Can you please just say something, anything to keep my ego alive? I can feel it becoming insecure. It is starting to make me wonder about the things that I cannot control. My ego is like a precious piece of gold, and you are purposely trying to lose it. Why would you want to lose something so valuable? Isn’t my well-being valuable to you? Can’t you see how anxious I am becoming due to this numbing silence that is residing among the two of us? You don’t see if. You don’t hear it. I do though, and the inside of my stomach begins mouthing out the words that you refuse to speak to me because unfortunately, this silence is starting to make me anxiously hungry! I could say that I would rather be thirsty, but I think I might need to devour something with my mouth before I decide to let my pride get the best of me. You seem so eager to be quiet, and I want to know what is happening inside of your mind that is making this external experience feel like an emotionless riot. Tell me that you are here. Tell me something. Let me know what is going on with you so that way, I can fix you. All I want to do is fix the things that seem unfixable. You want to let go, but I won’t let you. Honestly, you don’t need to let go of me, but what you need to do is let go of yourself while being in the moment with me. Try to give yourself permission to be comfortable with the feeling of being uncomfortable and come take a stroll down my block for a while. Let me grant you an experience that you would

never want to take back. I mean, wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t you love being underneath my persuasive facade that only comes to light when you are around? Conversate with me and stroke my ego as if you are trying to prove a point. Tell me how interesting I am even if you feel like what you are saying is a complete lie. I want to be talked to. So lie to me if you wish, but talk to me regardless. Speak about random shit and make me feel worth your time. I know that to you, I am not a dime. I’m a penny, but I will give you most of my free time if you just let me! I can show you how to be completely free without even trying. I’ll let you look me in the eyes when I tell you that I love you so that way, you know that I am not lying. Will you ever open up your mouth to speak? Or will we just remain silent for the rest of this car ride? The endless possibilities that could manifest off of our man festivities. All you have to do is talk to me, and I swear I will listen. Stop driving and pull over to the side of the road and give you my undivided attention. I will even show you how good I am at active listening because to me, when you talk, it is like I am hearing my favorite artist singing. The sound of your voice is a piercing ringing that seems to fill my soulless void called ego. It lets me know that I still matter. That I am still someone special to you. SO WHY WON’T YOU SPEAK TO ME? Say something, anything, or I swear I will be done. I need someone to fill this empty restless void that penetrates my insecurities. I need you to understand that it was never nothing personal, but the fact that you don’t talk to me makes me uncomfortable. I feel emotional at the thought of how replaceable I am. You’d rather sit here in silence instead of talking to me like the grown adult that I am.

I Love You

Tonight is a chaos waiting to be defeated without a purpose, and I can tell that something about you is hurting. Our adventure today was a spontaneous glimpse of what we could have been in the past. Tonight is an army, filled with a magnitude that complies with a beautiful resilience that won’t last. But we just continue to get lost, searching for our way home. What if we chose to remain stuck and hopeless in the night, with no one to come get us? We would definitely become in denial about everything we thought we once knew. Walking down a road with no cars or streetlights. Just us and our bodies against the moon. It shines bright enough for me, and it does the same for you. Enough for us to find our way toward a lifeless bench. Could it be that it was waiting for us the entire time? I could tell that it was lonely, but tonight, we gave it hope. Tonight will go down in history as another adventure with the person who loves me. The day that I continuously look back on when I drive past “our” bench. It sits by itself now, waiting for two people to come sit for a while in the night.

Lost and secretly in love when all you wanted to do was hold me. I could tell that something inside of you was hurting, but we stayed in each other’s arms anyway. Consoling the words that neither one of us ever spoke toward each other. Nothing else for us to do, so I remain in your arms while thinking about how much I love you… Tonight, we gave ourselves the strength to say it with innocent body language. If intimacy only knew how much it missed me, we would be on cloud nine. Instead my head is laying on your shoulder, and your head is resting gently against mine. This bench knows about our secrets and knows about our feelings. Still we sit here, cold and lost within time. Pretending to be oblivious to the feelings that are consuming us. This bench knows that eventually we will get up and leave but provides us with the gentle spirit of romanticism that we need. And when it is time to go home and go our separate ways, the only thing I ever seem to regret are the things I did not say. One moment can last for centuries, but without the communicated language, it lays hidden without meaning and slowly starts to decay. Our actions said something else while we continued to say nothing. Tonight is now, and will forever be, that night when we both were lost With nothing to do Not knowing what to say But thinking about three simple words that could’ve changed everything, including the ending of that day.

If love wasn’t meant to last forever And that bench still remains lonely Then that bench will always be “our” bench When I think about two hearts consoling the purpose of a simplified expression that speaks “I Love You…”

Earbudded Shields

“Let’s relinquish these repressed feelings and vanish among the crowd.”

That wasn’t an option, but she refused gracefully and began moving to the beat of the song. Wearing earbuds is like a shield that only she knows about. The noise and odd stares from the crowd disappear once she puts them in her ears. The music flows and causes an entanglement with her eardrums. Before you know it, she begins to display a sight of splurging ecstasy as she glides toward her next destination. She is a free spirit that has the ability to intrigue the ones that find her vision to be captivating. A mindless frame of wonder, but even among the crowd, she seems to stand out. The music flows into a floetic storm, keeping her as its submissive creator. She knows how to go against the grain, but she rather reigns with it. There is no competition, just her and the everlasting flow of music that stains her aura with this bountiful surprise of elegance. The feeling of being invisible, while standing out from the crowd at the same time, is pleasing yet hindering. The muse is unapproachable, but the cat will remain curious and feel the need to succeed its prey. She knows they’re watching her from afar, so she pretends to become a magnet and magically brings their attention closer toward her movements. No one understands her instantaneous decency, but she secretly can afford their misjudgments and confusion. They prey on her absentmindedness as she prays for their ignorance, hoping that someday they decide to seek deliverance. Cylindrical edges do not know the limitations of society, so she consciously commensurate the exhilarating feeling of gliding to the sound of music. In light, she becomes shuttered by the brief absence of shade, but when the lights turn off, she becomes a muse that was meant to be the star of an escapade.

When It Doesn’t Hurt Anymore

Teddy Pendergrass, playing mercifully in the background as she dances by herself in the dark. He pacifies her pain by gently singing about how the heartbreak he once felt doesn’t hurt anymore. The aspiration in his voice relates throughout the entire room, and she continues to sway to the rhythm symbolically. He sings the words that she wants to feel to be true as her own. With his record on repeat, she continues to listen intentionally. Some nights, she’ll look up at the moon and the stars while reminiscing about how things used to be. He sings with such a strong intent on wanting to prove that he isn’t heartbroken anymore, that she can feel it. The feeling of finally being healed from unrequited love rushes throughout her veins, leaving her with a warming infatuation of sexiness. She is now in control of her own emotions, and soon she becomes aligned with the intensity of the song. “And it doesn’t hurt now. No, not now. Baby, it doesn’t hurt now, not now.” Orbits around the entire room, and she continues to sway to the beat. Calming the utter fearlessness of her mind while relaxing all of her self-doubts. She no longer feels the need to sit up, waiting for something that was never hers to begin with. The tears no longer stroke her face, so she stroke away the remainder of the pain she once felt with the wisdom of his words. She sways and sways while letting her arms reach for the ceiling uncontrollably. In her heart, she can feel the ion bursting from the love she is ready to give to herself. The potency of the beat inflicts her wounds and covers them with a sense of empowerment. The chorus keeps humming all around her sympathetically. She heats up from vulnerability and gives herself the permission to finally let go because if he can make it without her, then she can most definitely make it without him. When she let the pain finally slip away, she accepted herself completely.

This aftertaste of self-indulgence is very much needed when the spirit has been neglected for so long. The smell of its aroma lingers in the air, waiting to be fulfilled of its purpose. All the spirit wants is to be free from all of that bad juju. Open up the windows and let out the sappy smell of discernment. Wish the energy well and say goodbye to all of that negativity that tries to hold your soul captive. Burn some incense, ignite some sage, and breathe to the base of your divine feminine and masculine chemistry. Inhale and exhale positive selfaffirmations because this is what your spirit needs. Let yourself become one with your surroundings so that way, you can feel this sense of positivity. The air is now breathing freshly among your environment, and your purpose is starting to feel higher. The only stimulant here is your positive vibrations that are bringing back to you the things that you are intentionally putting out. When you stare into your own eyes, you’ll notice that they have been watching you your entire life. And they are counting on you to fulfill your future dreams and goals because hope will always be waiting for you around every corner. Even when you feel the need to give into certain temptations, that life comes with no limitations, so expand your living distances. Let the light shine down on the parts that you view as flaws, and let it heal all of your misperceived views. This uniting sensation will raise you higher, and you will succeed in self-discovery. Your cup will fill and overflow because you are choosing to pursue the things that you want and love to do. Most importantly, you are choosing to be unapologetically yourself despite the opinions of others. Your nature is a healing sophisticated virtue, and you shall prosper through love and kindness. When you choose to lift yourself up from where you fell, you’re choosing to inspire others around you to do the same. So let’s rebuild together instead of tearing one another down. Let’s heal and together become higher.

The Creases of a Light Bulb

The way it turned on without feeling pressured to expose the inner light that people refused to acknowledge.

Existing only when the light switch is flipped upside down.

When the hope bleeds out, the curtains illuminate the agitation of loneliness.

This room controls the manifestation of energy, but the light switch beholds of all the power.

The radiance connects with its surroundings that wish to be found. The hidden residue of what’s left briefly uncovers the skeletons that reside at the base of the closet.

It is evocative, yet a lonely vessel filled with anguish and grief that only reminisces when it is seen and not heard. The fluorescents are incapable of using the sun, but at night, the moon gives it a purpose to glow.

The walls close in, and the lights begin to shatter at the commotions that were once there.

The memories that used to reside no longer replay themselves, but the anticipation to find them still remains intact.

The creases of a light bulb tries to find a sense of stability, hoping to emulate with a purpose that gives it a spacious responsibility.

Only to relinquish certain inadequate visions that tempts for its release. It stays hidden, hoping to be found by the main entity that it left.

Instead, the only thing that finds the light are the unforgettable self-evaluations that remind it of why those creases are there.

Like scars on skin, these outlined surfaces appear to be visible when allowed to be seen. Showing them how it was never the context, or the vocal point, that made them erupt from the magnitude that desired their attentiveness.

The lack of recognition only wastes the electricity and does nothing but drain out the analytical observations. The room is too loud when the lights are turned on.

A dream fancies the things that people wish were true, while in reality, the only thing that is fancied is the fondness of existing.

The natural emotion from the feeling of being high catches the light bulb off guard and resumes its of animosity.

It traces it fingers up the spine of the bulb, hoping to trigger an electric combustion. Hoping to cause it to blow out and hinder itself toward self-destruction.

The quietness lingers, and the environment can feel it hurting.

The overwhelming feeling begins aching for more resistance, and there seems to be no end for its ive-aggressiveness when yearning.

The edges are hurtful toward the eyes, especially when they reflect a glow that brightens up a facade that was meant to deceive others.

The light bulb could try to cover up its insecurities but fails epically when the high starts to get stronger. There is no cure without it, so the rush chooses to be astounding and selfcentered. This high has the ability to destroy anything within its sight, so it lurks in the morning time and crawls around at night.

The selfishness creates a toxic whirlwind that projects a silence of negativity.

The heat from the creases rage with paranoia and inflicted dissociation. The world feels so quiet, yet everyone can hear it. The high begins to intertwine with the creases, hoping to fully destroy its outlook on life. A mind that was once opened now becomes closed and cluttered with overused thoughts. This frustrating feeling sweeps over and casts a shadow of remorse and retreat.

The high causes a strict ability that condemns the light with shame. No one wants to it it; but the walls are closing in, and the creases are becoming thin. The worn-out four-leaf clover has now disappeared, and the only thing left is the light and the obnoxious high. It secretly waits for the light bulb to burst, wanting it to cause a scene. Wishing that it would just let go and expose itself of everything hidden. The creases become guilt-ridden, and the self-centered thoughts now become overwhelming. The light is on, but the overbearing walls are now hovering it into a corner specifically made for it to reside.

The high knows about its effect on the bulb but refuses to stop.

Refuses to stop the paranoia shifting throughout the room.

The walls—they can feel it too, but they remain in motion, trying to draw out the light. The fluorescent moon isn’t big enough for the sun’s rays, but they disappear anyways. This must be what it feels like, a trapped light bulb fighting the high of what the paranoia left behind. Fighting for its right to shine, only to be left with a broken frame and corrupted mind. Nothing remains insight, and all that is left is the inability to move. To get up and leave the feeling of loneliness, but the creases bleed out among the room. As the wounds leak, the light begins draining profoundly, hoping to stop the rush of adrenaline. Hoping to still remain in alignment with the flow of electricity, only to find out that it never cared too much for the light bulb or its new profound creases. It was only a tool, waiting to be used for the convenience of others…

Intense Morning

The air is foggy, and the streetlights are barely awake Yesterday has ed within a matter of twenty-four hours Yet everyday feels like the same repeated cycle, just with new faces and the same places Repeated acts and worn-out habits never seem to go away Here is the dawn of morning Yet today is starting to feel like déjà vu from yesterday We have been here before

I said we have been here before But this time, the pavement is no longer rough and filled with potholes There is now a fresh coat that does not have the intentions of leaving our tires sore The day has barely begun, but the sun seems to know how it will already end The sky shows no traces of any storm, but we can sense a rage from a thousand pages From the message we chose not to send The ones that we did send, and the ones that got left on read This communication system is flawlessly nonexistent

When this message gets no response to it

Shy Nightingale

They blame it on her face then turn around to point out it’s her voice that doesn’t match up. The judges appear to be the scale of 1 to 10. There is no looking up to an idol When the idol does not find you favorable.

They blame it on her hair, assuming it lays flat. Stripping her self-esteem down like a fallen-down hat.

They masquerade around her oblivious ignorance, egotistically blaming it on her innocence. Without knowing the depth of her structure, Below the false projection is someone intelligent, but they’ll blame it on her odd quietness and inadequate posture That reeks of shyness and timidity. She’s too tense and doesn’t speak up when she feels like she’s been put through starvation. Meanwhile, they blame it on her imperfect smile and suitable eyes, Trying to find an imperfect soul that does nothing but carry secrets and cherishes lies. The nightingale is an analytical adventurer that seeks out to self-sabotage her own endeavors by being self-absorbed.

The closest thing to feeling secure is the sound of sad music ing through her ears. She’ll make a playlist to cry to it like she hasn’t cried in years.

Where did all that water go?

To her overflowing and stubborn ways, she’ll say they blame it on the things that are out of her control but… They are her, and she is they Just like this When she is self-analyzing her habits and structural ways.

They exist quietly with the fear of giving in, but they connect either way. A friendship breathing its way into life with no limitations. The effort is minimal, but till valued, they intend on being intentional. There is a beckoning call when two people need each other. This friendship is a state of mind that coexists with their thoughts and feelings. The laughter is loud and consistent with the air that they breathe. Leaving them restless within the night, dying for each other’s attention. This is like a magical fantasy coming to life with the chains trying to make them resist the vibrant chemistry. This must be what it feels like to be mindful. They practice active listening when conversing. Nobody grows quiet, and there seems to never be a dull moment. He lusts for her voice, feigning for the sound of her mind opening up wider to what he is trying to consume. The days grow their leaves out as the sun appears to flow with the atmosphere. This connection is ever flowing, and she needs someone to talk to about the thoughts that sleep inside her frame. He likes the way she strokes his ego, making him feel important to society and himself. This friendship is a vibrant chemistry waiting to ignite into something more, but they both know that that part of the story was never meant for them. It was never about the wrong timing or wrong places. It was merely about the insecurities and flaws that dig a hole deep into her core every single night. The feeling of being constantly on edge with fear and regret, the absentmindness that he refuses to forget. It was never about the imperfectness about him because to her, he was the entire package and much more. Creasing his way into her life, making her feel accepted for the real her. This vibration is bigger than them, and the universe can feel it. A powerful notion that is more than just a simple mind-set stopping them from mixing their beliefs. The distance feels like crowded space that is unable to move out of the way. It suffocates their weary resentments and corresponds them into a ball of positive freshness. A vibe that she can only have with him because he allows her to be herself. She shows him the real her with the way she freely speaks her mind. Telling him how worthy he is to be able to have a piece of her time. The texting, the calling, and the dreams begin to take up most of their days. Eventually, the “I fuck with you” turns into “I love you.” The constant

dependence on each other, trying to survive on a day-to-day basis. The laughter is extremely obnoxious and contagious, but they rage on in hopes to turn their meaningful friendship into a powerful purpose. This is not a state of mind, but a convenience that never meant to push between these two. Their conversations live within the galaxies and sleep among the moon. He is the flesh of the sun, while she is from the shadow of the stars that wishes to be seen shooting.

Friends Forever

I wanted to be your friend even when I didn’t know you ’Cause everybody needs a friend to go through I was your friendly shadow in your past Yeah, I helped you get here at last

I was the friend that you needed the most Like a piece of bread, you had me at toast ’Cause you toasted the only feeling that existed I gave you my palms and showed you what’s real

You learned as you yearned for our upbringing Hope that one day, you will hear the actual singing of my words Instead of just zooming through them—how absurd You forget that I know the meaning

If you would have paid attention, you would have been left stunned, and your eyes would be gleaming I would’ve been your friend even when you were lonely

I would’ve put your heart in a stroll and took it for a walk Tell it to stop crying and being so upset because it’s time to talk

I would’ve showed it the difference between using the board and scraping the chalk I was your friend inside your dreams that persisted of gold I gave you fortune and the things that couldn’t be sold I helped you throughout the hard times

Yes, I was the one who turned all those pennies into dimes I would have been your friend till the end ’Cause everyone needs someone to depend on I can mend your unfixed heart, put those tiny unfixed pieces back to part

I was your friend when you needed a guide throughout the night I held your tiny little hand despite you not knowing where to go You were upset, but I refused to let it show I helped you grow into the being of who you truly are

I showed you the entire galaxy and every shooting star I expanded your mind on the things that felt far

Continued to be your friend, even when you wanted more Felt like I was being used, but stayed so you wouldn’t be torn

I am always here for you ’cause I’m the best you will ever find I took away your fear Told your bravery to step up and come here Come to the light of this humble vase

Stop running away, and start staring those monsters in the face We are all cold and a little hard to embrace at first But I was your friend even when you were dying of thirst Poured water into your cup until you were good

Just had a little breakdown, but I understood You and I had the most unbreakable bond You were so fond of me Loved to see me happy

Oh, but now it’s the other way around I am your friend, even though you chose her to stand your ground Told me I had to leave, so I left and made no sound

I am still your friend even though we are barely communicating

Even though you are still participating in this friendship I overloved you to the bone Now loving me is not even in the zone Dry words are now the tone

I’m stuck being in this speechless fire ’cause You thought pushing me away was going to make me retire Even though I was never officially hired In fact, you were the one who asked me

You don’t even know how lucky you got When this friendly monster decided to say yes That’s when I fucking blessed you Just so you can love me in secret because nobody knew

I am still your friend even when you stick that knife in my back This sadness keeps track I am not just going to give up on your love I will just treat it like a garden and mend it for the sky up above

I am still your friend even when I see your eyes meet hers in the moment The butterflies I once knew died in an instant I am still your friend even when I know that I’m better for you Everything that she seems to be putting you through

Can’t you see I want to be the one that you desire? I figured you would be inspired by my truth Instead, you’re alienated by my incredible youth But I was you friend, even when you made me not speak

You caused me to become too weak and unable to obtain the wishes of the universe Sometimes I find it hard to open my eyes because it hurts What’s worse is that I am trying while lying to your face I have plenty of memories of you that I cannot erase

The moon should go away now. I want to see the sun I remained your friend, even when you embarrassed me in front of your secret lover You just forget that I secretly knew you two loved each other Oh, but I swear I will remain being your friend forever

’Cause I will never give up on your sky raisings I will still be your friend even though you betrayed me.

The Car that Went Faster

She’s walking alone in hopes to drown out her sorrows by listening to music. This is never a distraction because she seems to always be alert. Looking to the left, only to find herself constantly looking toward the right, hoping that the light will still remain red. This white car has this vibration of intimidation that causes a gut-wrenching fear. It only exists within her own limits, but everything seemed obviously clear.

The light is still red, and the glistening beauty remains stopped, impatiently waiting to accelerate on the gas. Her heart is beating fast while being aware of the moment standing in front of her. But to this car, it’s not enough. Before she knows it, the light turns green, and she is halfway across the street. This walk she portrays is fast yet swift, but to the car, it still isn’t enough. Their lights are bright, but they keep going. She soon becomes the star of the show that they are watching.

“But they see me, right?”

Is all that starts to scream inside her head as they impatiently speed faster toward her as if she is some deer that they don’t see. They get closer and closer, pretending she is a magnet that is purposely attracting them. Closer until she has no choice but to run for her life.

Her rushing figure disappears from their piercing sensation as they honk their horn abruptly, Acting as if she is the one who is driving the car, Honking at her like it would solve the problem. She made it to the other side of the street, only to realize that they probably had the intentions of purposely hitting her if she had let them…

“Why didn’t they stop?”

She questions herself as she tries to speed up her pace, in fear that they would turn around and yell at her for something they almost committed.

Almost…was all it took, and she wouldn’t have been on the other side.

Almost…caused her to think back on all the times she wanted to completely give up for the fuck of it.

Almost…slowed her down, and all she could think about was how they saw her.

She was completely visible, yet to them it was as if she wasn’t. Maybe this is how it is with everyone she knows…

Maybe the universe is trying to show her something that she shouldn’t do, and that is to give up but… But how is she supposed to continue feeling okay? How is she supposed to feel fine when everything around her seems to be hyperventilating due to one car?

Her mind started racing, and her legs grew heavy because maybe this is how everyone views her. This invisible frame that is used for someone else’s agendas that never seems to comply with hers. The regret upon her face began to resurface, and all she could feel is empty sadness. If she wanted to do it, she would have done it. She would have taken that opportunity weeks ago, but she didn’t because she decided to stay and chase the main thing that gives her a purpose. And that is her dreams The present Her family Her future and all the things that could have a positive effect on her life.

But that impatient, shameless beauty started leaving an imprint on her vision. Soon enough, she felt like she was gulping for air as the tears cut themselves onto her face. The night is still young, but to her, it feels as if she is twice her age with a burning rage of resentment toward everyone and everything.

The picture becomes bigger while the sidewalk engulfs itself into a blur. What ifs started creeping upon the surface, asking her about the things that seemed out of her control. The fear bit her on the neck and caressed her skin peacefully, trying to manipulate her current views, Trying to control her. She can’t speak up; all she can do is continue walking. Her face loses its cool. The tears overflow because maybe it was meant to be.

Nobody would have known. Some wouldn’t care. The only witnesses that had any influence left when the light turned green. They left when she thought that they had seen her.

“It is not their fault. It’s mine.”

Recites like a poem inside her head. No friends for them to call No ID present Just her and the hollow memories rushing at her like a lightning bolt.

Hope came crashing down all at once, and her peace of mind decided to leave the building. Before she knew it, all that’s left is her and all of life’s reckless memories Her questioned intelligence and denied self-integrity. People that came and went started resurfacing, reminding her of why they chose to take the exit. This exhausting setback took her by the hand and guided her slowly toward home.

The music went from a motivating vibration to shady a tree on a street with no lights. If she weren’t so reserved, she would attempt to tell someone about what happened. Instead, she quietly cries while walking toward her destination Thinking about her mistakes The heartbreaks, and everything she ever did that turned into a disaster. She went from feeling like she was on top of the world

To feeling insignificantly worthless All because a car decided to humble her by choosing to go faster. On purpose.

Different

Tell me a different story, and I swear I will give you all my attention. Take off my ears and place them in your lap so that way, you know that I am listening. Talk to me like you know I’m going to give you a response that you’re dying to hear. Act like you are present when I speak. Let me know that you are here.

I’ll listen to every single word you pronounce and every error that slips out of your mouth. I will maintain eye with your feelings while nurturing your emotions. Tell me something different, something I have never heard before. I am tired of the same old cycles; they’re starting to give me a bore. The men that come and go, making me feel like a whore. Making me feel worthless when I can’t give them more.

More?

More of my energy, the heart of my reciprocity. You see, I can give you my undivided attention, but will you do the same? I will stare at the core of the words that you speak, but again, will you do the same? Conversate with me like this communication skill set is going in vain. Pretend like without it, all that you’d ever experience is pain. Let me know that what I think is important, even if I already know. I’m asking you to tell me something different before I choose to let you go like the man that ghosted my intelligence. That refused to water me but continued to replenish my dirt and soil, until he wholeheartedly neglected it.

Server

My excellent service gives you the things that you want When you find out that it isn’t what you need, you get angry You refuse my help and push my kindness to the side You forget in an instant that your words could potentially make me cry

You did not receive what you expected You decide to speak disrespectfully Telling me how things should be Projecting your insensitive thoughts onto me

All I can do is be silent What good would it do if I didn’t remain quiet? You shout and demand a better fixing I try my best to please your needs instantly

I am here to serve you with my nurturing abilities With my extraordinary service and responsibility Yet you continue to push it all to the side

You don’t beg, you don’t cry

All you do is speak on my mistakes Comparing me to other places Throwing insults up in my face While casually telling me how bad it tastes

Nothing never seems to be good enough But I try to be good enough for you I try to give you what you want I try to give you what you need I try to show that I care By serving you with dignity

You and I are like separate beings floating massively into space like unorganized UFOs

We have no time to waste, but it seems like all we do is waste time The clock can keep ticking away, and I wouldn’t even notice the fading of the day Endless rivers have this momentum that refuses them to collide with an ocean’s current But this UFO keeps up with the motions of the galaxies that refuses to look back at me Our UFOs are like rainbows with no pot of gold waiting for us at the end The pretend game becomes insane once we recognize the feelings we once had

And soon distinctive pieces of matter will then become blank like the pages that are no longer here The then will become my continuous shame, and you’ll become your own endless pain The reason above all else because no one knows how to deal with what is gone but you.

And I’ve tried reaching for my dreams beyond the stars I tried looking at the whole picture, but nothing seems to come up Nothing seemed to be open for someone like me For someone like you, but there was still nothing left for us to do I lay wondrously, Hopelessly, against the ground, waiting for the moment to apologize To say that I am sorry for the mess that I refused to clean up The mess that lays silently in the middle of your room And because of me, you remain a distant memory that has no ending

We stay in wonder, in the thoughtful gaze that refuses to go away on the busiest of days This room has seen it all, except for the sights of you This room has seen tears that fall down from the creases of guilt There is no room left to learn anything new when memories choose to stay stagnant Leaving behind a painful reminder that there is no turning back I have tried reaching for my dreams that lay hidden underneath my mind’s perspective I tried dres the insecurities until there was nothing left to hide I have tried listening to advice until blue was the only color the other person could see

I have tried breathing out all hurt that I caused among the fallen hope The shattered dreams that no longer have a flame to ignite them The beautiful night skies that are no longer able to glisten because the mind who isn’t mindful doesn’t listen

What Ifs

I’ve had many types of antidotes, but none quite compare to the fixture of you. They try to draw me in with simplistic conversations about what they are interested in. They try to read me effortlessly, only to let me down the next day. I let them breathe my aura in once or twice until I receive the voice of the air that tells me to distance myself and go away. Their intentions are innocent, but I still remain nonexistent to their efforts because what if… What if their medicine that was meant to swoon me dries out? What if they learn the things that you did and eventually decide to leave? What if you decide to come back?

I can open myself up to their individualistic games, but it would never feel quite the same. I can decide to love them for their character and broad mind-sets, but it would not compare to you and your perspectives. I can commit to another antidote, but I will never become addicted or attached to their underlying sediments.

I can do all these things, but I will continue to choose not to In hopes that someday, my love will have finally found you.

They don’t enter my veins the same way as you do Or cause creases among my brain waves. They don’t even try to see what is inside my mind without trying to tear me apart. They aren’t like you, period. Which is why they don’t deserve a place within my heart.

These intoxicating rushes are damaging to these walls They built them up, only to destroy them the next day You are not a priority in this game of chess You’re only a pawn.

Harsh Realities

You know that what you are doing is wrong, but you keep pursuing the same mistake. Hoping that someday, things will change, that you will change. You fight off the voices that compel you into thinking negatively about who you are but…but sometimes fighting is just not enough. This pity party is continuous, and the people around you start to notice it. They become aware of your manipulative tactics and draining sense of steam. Eventually, no one wants to be around you anymore because all you seem to cause is discomfort. It’s not like people purposely meant to act this way toward you. It’s just the way you act toward them. Childlike and disrespectful toward other’s needs that you forget that they are the same as you. Everything that has been done is now complete, and you are left alone, wondering. You wonder about the things that are out of your control until you become obsessive. They know it. They know it so well that they can see through your fake facade even on your worst days. Who are you? A monster? A manipulative person that gets high off of the hurt and discomfort of others? You never seem to ask yourself these questions, and maybe because you’ve realized that no one truly cares. No one cares about what you’ve got to say. No one cares about what is on your mind, even when you’re bursting at the seams. No one seems to ask you how you’re doing to genuinely know how you’re doing.

And that is what keeps you stuck. That feeling of loneliness that creeps up your spine, slowly trying to slow down your track of time. This is what keeps you stuck, unable to fight off the things that are going to eventually destroy you. They know it, and you know that they know; but you choose to remain oblivious to their knowledge.

You will be stuck when you realize that you have nobody to talk to about the things that bother you. The thoughts that roam in your mind on a daily basis are silent, yet louder than your voice that you barely use. Solo is meant for someone who was never meant to have other people to turn to. They know it, and you know it. So you continue rejecting the few genuine people that enter your life in hopes to receive something better that you don’t understand. You push away everything and everyone in sight, in hopes to gain a better understanding of who you are. Only to become stuck in a room that doesn’t provide enough ventilation. The air is constantly stagnant and crowded. All you can do is sit here and think about everything that you’ve ever done in life. All the missed opportunities that cry in the shadows of your room, wishing that you would’ve given them a chance. Why didn’t you just give them a chance? Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe you would feel better about yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bitter about the things that you can’t change. The sand that slips through your fingers should not control the outcome of your life, but you let it. Holding onto the things that have been complete for years. You have been holding onto grudges and regrets, purposely trying to sabotage anything good that you have left. Why can’t you let go? Because you know that if you do, there would be no turning back. There would be no more lonely nights sitting on the floor in the middle of the room trying to talk yourself out of it. You won’t wonder why there is no one to talk to. There wouldn’t be any room for insecurities and harsh self-judgement. Life would finally start to feel good even on your worst days…

I looked him in the eyes and begged him to give me something to keep me going. Give me a purpose Tell me about the things that I don’t know Teach me how to live life from your perspective Anything to keep me going

I looked him in the eyes and begged for his sympathy, hoping that he would embrace me. Take me in his arms and guide me through the storm that could not stop brewing inside me I needed someone to confide in, someone that I could secretly hide in without feeling like a burden Please, anything to keep me going But all he could do was kindly tell me no and that he could not afford to take on someone else’s problems.

This agitation cut so deep that all she could do was sink to the floor and scream Tears came flying out of her eyes as she howled to the moon, wanting the pain to stop before it resulted into something she’d regret. “Someone. Please, anyone. Please save me.” It was as if she desired to be saved from her own impersonal destruction, but all the moon could do was watch. He watched her fall apart, refusing to give her something to keep her going.

So she breathlessly laid on the grass, waiting for sunrise to ignite her spirit into the morning fog that would soon come and go. Taking away everything she had ever felt, and gone with all the knowledge that she would ever know.

Disappearing is easy. All you have to do is sit and be silent during social gatherings. Smile awkwardly, pretend that you are a mannequin that is presenting a new fashion trend. Refuse to give them a piece of your mind by staying quiet. Act as if you don’t have a sense of intelligence, while buried deep inside you is a cosmic riot waiting to explode from the density of your eloquent proficiency. Downgrading ourselves, fearing that someone might reject us, is a saddening force that only exists within the minds that behold of deeply rooted insecurities. Forget about my social anxiety or my deprived self-centered lifestyle. I’m just a shy hazardous mannequin barely existing in style.

Freewrite

We talk about life, the things to come and the things to go. We talk about everything we can’t let go. On this adventure, I sit as our conversations begin to exit their way out of the front door. As we remain silent, secretly wanting more. One of us should begin to talk before someone decides to walk. We shouldn’t have to pretend that our ending doesn’t have a complete end. But we do, so I sit here, quietly waiting. Patently loving you with every piece of me till dusk has finally reached dawn. Like soap with bubbles, I yawn, letting out all that is on my mind without thinking twice about it. Throwing you clues while hoping that you will soon find my love. I want you to find everything, all of the above. The heavens, the gods, the entities that created the lotus. You don’t. Instead, you remain cluelessly detached from what I want to show you. A paradise that nobody can ever find unless I willingly present. You don’t find my love hiding in between my words, so we continue to talk about life. Yeah, the thing to come, and the things to go. We talk about everything we seem to already know, and so on this adventure, I sit. Yeah, I sit here, patiently waiting for you to get it. Pining for someone that I don’t need. I only want what I don’t need, and that is to love you in a life. In a life full of greed. Something that goes in and out of love, in a world where we planted this seed unknowingly. Now that I’m here, I want it to grow with both of our visions, but you aren’t aware of this powerful connection. On this adventure, I sit patiently, waiting for something that does not yet exist.

Regret

Is the foul lingering smell that stays behind when everyone has left It is the things that were not said The thoughts that remained bottled up Regret are the people that no longer speak to one another

An astonishing fear of making the wrong choice Or the complete hindrance from not using your own voice Regret is the time force watching you as you watch your life you by It is the tears that you refused to cry

The guilt and shame that you let control your life Regret is only having the ability to live once, but choosing not to It’s the patience that you have when holding onto someone that does not love you The time you wasted abiding by everyone else’s opinions

The refusal of just being yourself in social interactions Purposely getting distracted from the present by being stuck in your past

Regret is letting the loss of motivation eat away at your ambition Letting yourself fail at something you could’ve been good at

The times that you let yourself down Losing your step and not trying to stand your ground The feeling of not knowing, but refusing to learn how

We kept getting stuck in the middle of nowhere while trying to run away from the regrets of our now.

Lover of Arrogance

Recently, there hasn’t been any changes with our lustful setbacks. Why keep continuing when sometimes it feels like there’s nothing to love for? ’Cause we grow stronger by the minutes that are lost to the ones that we love. And sometimes, a person just can’t give that up. I watching you quietly, wondering what a person like you could be like. Expressions are hard to handle when a person is overflowing in doubt. I know what you want from me. You want me to spread my horizons and open up to your sensitive arrogance. You want me to open my mind and act like you are truly mine. That is probably why we sneak around with other people because your needs are not satisfied with me. Does it hurt you to know that you’ve made a mistake? Our choices can become so unbearable, especially when they are made within the positive light from the sky. Someday, it’s going to blow out and become dim. So why seek approval from the ones who tried to tear you down way before me? Why give up on all the possibilities that potentially have a chance within this exaggerated romance? Way before our vibrations started to connect, you felt me coming. Mentally and physically, but sometimes you forget to blink. To breathe your existence toward my direction. Stop suffering your lungs when our mouths were never made for each other. I notice the tool that you use to speak, and I fall in love. In an instant, I become a believer and kiss your royal crown. Telling you to “show me that ignorance is bliss.” Your oblivious arrogance watches you sleep at night while you dream of me. Does it know that these feelings will never fade away? No, it doesn’t; in fact, it never will. Forgiveness is like an uncooked pie; it will soon become ready to eat, but you will never ever get a piece. But I get soaked into your main principles

every single time, and you end up consuming a piece anyways. You know how to lure me into your motives easily, and I try to stop it; but our connection is so powerful. I said, “Go ahead and let me get distracted by your ways. Tell me what you think is right while shaming the things that I do as if they are wrong.” The start of our day is always about you and the things that you have to do. I am your pretty lover that resides at your side. The one whose job is to constantly boost up your pride. You are a powerful momentum that consists of all the power in the world. The people love you, and you love the attention that they give you. But mine…My attention is something that you cannot live without. I give you the feeling of secureness, the main thing that has kept this castle standing. I let you build me into the woman that you think I should be because you are my inspiration. Without you, there wouldn’t be a me, and without me, there wouldn’t be a you. At this point, we both need each other in order to keep thriving in this castle. Our power combined knows no limits to the cycle of life; our beings will always be united and unified within your possession. Possession, because you are possessive over the things that you love and adore. I am your main character in your story, but my life, including my dreams, remain on the sidelines. You don’t try to give me the space to touch the sky; instead, you keep me entangled with the specific duties of yours. Giving me long lists of chores to do throughout the day, treating me like your secretary. I am your right hand when dealing with paperwork that needs to be read more than once. I give the money a powerful lust, for greedy hands that come from a beholder that has eyes that are too big for his stomach. A people pleaser, pleasing her man the best way that she can because he is so powerful. This wealth of yours keeps me in the right state of mind; without it, I would not be able to live a wealthy life. You know that, so you continue to give me the things that I could easily get for myself. Giving me life, giving me pleasure, while making me your secretary to the technical difficulties that you have no patience for. Your dreams come first, and mine will continue to come last; but we still grow stronger by the minutes. Love feels so good when you are in it for all the wrong reasons. We sometimes feel stuck from all this successful building; our structures are resilient even when we do not feel it.

They feel for your energy, wanting to take everything that you’ve got. They use you like a tool, trying to get your insides to rot. They notice how joyful your spirit is, but as of right now, your spirit is quiet. For years, it has been silent due to all this negativity that lays absentmindedly inside your walls. You’ve had dreams and realities that tried to give you the world. Here is the world and so much more, waiting to be explored. It is not waiting for you to speak doubt into existence. It is here for you to obtain everything on your wish list. So without complaints and restraint, go out. Go get it.

Headaches

This uncontrollable headache causes me to become clumsy. I am a mess waiting to disembark. It creeps itself into daily tasks Asking me questions that causes my head to sore I just want to rest for a while. I don’t want to think anymore

This headache is loud and obnoxious A subtle seductress trying to make her aim She is cunning yet vigorous at making me insane Not even ibuprofen can eliminate this head-aching migraine

I can try to guess where it came from But that won’t help Playing a guessing game only causes it to get worse I know that I should slow down because it hurts

The headache covers my forehead Giving me signs to turn off the lights before bed

Past-due assignments rearrange with its alignment And I am now left stressed

Here we are complaining about the things that don’t like to rest.

Give It Water

This tree is withering away because the roots are too thin. The sunlight can no longer reach it The pinecones that used to fall from its surface now longer sprout in spring They haven’t been around to see it decay But every day, it gets a little weaker Not even the rain can soothe its dehydrated system You could put water on it and feed it back to health Water it daily This would spare the weathermen that is awaiting its course A tree like this has no remorse, only a few broken cords Give it water and give it light Show it the dawn of middays while soothing it back to health during midnight You can feel it growing back to where it lost itself You can sense it rebuilding its power The inner light is rekindling this tree that once bloomed like a flower.

Walking Symphony

Here we are walking silently, and I have a feeling that I’ve played this game before. Showing the same cards, only yet…this time, they are more dignified. More showable, and it isn’t like my silence is a recognition for lack of intelligence. It’s just that I no longer want to see this going.

This quietness is more comforting than uncomfortable. I feel safe and very well guarded when all is quiet. Yet buried deep inside my vocal cords, there is a ion that longs to speak. To open up my not-so-bright mouth and speak. But all remains silent.

Being silent is okay. Just causes more awkwardness than I’d like to be up-front about. This true era. Of worrying my heart and soul out till I can no longer fight the day. To all problems, there needs to be a source. Everyone deserves to at least be found. So why am I still lost? We can’t continue to walk silently forever and pretend there was nothing here.

And maybe that is what I like about fantasies. Being able to pretend like there was even a thing going on seems much more compelling than looking at the faces of reality.

Plus how could I stay mad at me? For never opening up and speaking about everything that lays hidden behind my eyes. My head beholds of my own truths that are yet to be discovered. Yet we keep on walking down the hallway, eventually down the steps. The only sounds are those coming out of your mouth. My ego is saying, “If you just open up, you will then be happy.” Well, what if ego never existed though? Maybe opening up would not be a problem for us.

These prime colors of black and white. With other shades that never matched. How come we all have entitlement but only a few survive within the big mass parade?

I’m telling you silently that before him, I knew who I was. At least I thought I did. Wrong I may be, but I’m never going to forget. The harsh words that keep me from showing off so much of my body. The tight clothes I long to wear but never look good in. The personality that I always envy from those who receive nothing but praise and amazement.

Yet we just keep on walking.

Oh, and hey, by the way, I wanted you for days now. Probably even weeks. Longed for someone to talk to. Someone to be up-front and personal with about my deep ocean.

I longed to look you in the eyes and spill the vanilla bean about all my secrets. The new ones that trend their way into my life. All I ever want to do is vent. I think about this all the time. Damn, that would be nice.

But my mouth doesn’t say anything. I just keep quiet. Smile and pretend to be the saint that everyone thinks I am. When the room is filled with laughter and people around me are trying to hang on, I endlessly fall into a silent drift. Hoping that the ones I care for at least notice my falling. ’Cause a good one never tells, but no one seems to notice. That’s okay though. I concluded to just chalk it up anyway.

The day lags, and my positive attitude fades away because somehow, I don’t want these sorrowful moments to leave.

My mouth keeps quiet. Never speaking or using my words, but…don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t feel… Oh, but people do it anyway.

It feels like… Like friends come and go, so what’s the point in making any friendships?

In feeling special, when I can barely do that on my own, but we just keep walking, walking together.

I follow around like a lost puppy in search of her mum.

These magnetomotive fantasies cripple my depression and turn it into anxiety. ’Cause you finally caught on to me. The sweet, innocent person you thought I was will soon fade away.

When you start to notice how much I care about my appearance. How I suffer through these broken mirrors every day.

My soft-spoken voice is only a cover-up of how I really sound. An off-tuned instrument that will soon become noticeable during a band rehearsal.

Because

when I start to switch up and use those different voices from time to time, You will notice.

Yet we keep walking.

Mind, why don’t you stop speeding past your limit for a minute or two? ’Cause we don’t want to be exposed. Of our true feelings.

Besides why a cult when we already left one not too long ago?

Hiding behind a set t of vocabulary that I truly don’t know.

Lusting to understand these hidden meanings that won’t let me grow.

We just keep on walking, remaining mute during this symphony.

I just can’t stop thinking about how,

These looks will become deceitful when you find out I’m not as smart as I appear to be…

Fluorescents

These swift movements are disappearing motives that lighten up this hollow meekness that the intensity from the fluorescents view as weakness

Who do you think you are?

A fluorescent, flowing within the night A suitable bulb trying to find a reason to continue providing its light

They see it shining They see it flowing They see it…

They see it shining, your fluorescents beaming from all of life’s combining…desires Not even lightning bugs can soothe these intense flowing attires ’Cause they see it living While we keep on giving It’ll all just keep on shining

Love in the end trying to keep on Keep on Keep on lighting it up

Dear fluorescents, you’re glowing

Oh, how I love it. I love to see You are glowing

This ionate ego-tripping love affair Your light is making love to the beauty of the night And I love to see you shine so bright

Oh, how I love, love to see you

Love to see you

This magnitude is real with these vibrational forces Not even glow-in-the-dark stars can dim out from our disconnected courses

Love to see it To be true and believe it

Fluorescent is my light that shines so bright So bright…

Quiet Adventurer

Now that you must go, make sure that you leave my sanctuary quietly. You’re going to be ghosting these analytical trips while existing within these moments. You will be here, I know it.

We have been chasing these dusty pavements for ages, yet we are still here. The universe knows that the galaxy is a mile away when we put our imaginations to the tests, but I must confess, We are quiet adventurers with stick-shift observational skills as our endeavors.

You are here, I know it. You write your name in sharpie across my skin So that way, it takes a long time for the reminisce of you to sink in. We are priceless antiques when observing becomes our secondhand nature.

Ego-tripping for fun, living on the moon just because Growing up, just to get through the tough phases Seeking out the familiar from the faces of once-was Comprehending the difference between love and the ambiguous feeling of lust

When the butterflies turn into impressive beauties, The light will ignite their windowpanes and show the creases from their exhilarated choosy wings. These creases will dance in the rain and find fondness within the things it once self-hated.

Skipping Showers

This new feeling is empowering, knowing that your health is coming toward an awful decline. You are the empowerment over your entire body, ruling the things that doctors choose not to fix. It isn’t the unbearable late nights that keep you stricken with an unhealthy diet. Or the mornings where you forget to eat something nutritious or drink a full glass of water. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that you have just completely given up on caring about your oral hygiene. Your smile is no longer expensive, you think. It no longer requires you to be so paranoid about brushing it daily and perhaps maybe even twice. For all you care, it is nothing but a disintegrated cavity that will soon rot out of your mouth. The foul smell of bacteria lingers in hidden shadows among your unhealthy schedule. The things you once looked forward to no longer please you. They no longer give you a sense of purpose to continue caring about your bodily fluids. All that resonates with you is your increasingly shameful ways that are starting to become who you are. These bad habits are rotting their imbalances into your veins, and the only thing that tries to stop this is the knowing that one day, it will soon destroy you. Shape you and mold you into someone that you will no longer recognize. We keep telling ourselves that today will be the last day we skip a shower while knowing we could be lying. Today will not be the last day that we lose complete motivation in taking care of our hygiene. We could care less if our breath becomes unbearably stale with a smile full of cavities. Why care? When this is what happens when we refuse to give ourselves a chance to live. And I swear, we have been down this route so many times now that it’s beginning to feel like an endless cycle that will never stop. Sometimes you get so used to it that you forget that it’s the main thing killing you. All the warning signs that used to stray you away from the things that causes you to decay are now your beckoning call that you feign to hear. It’s not the same; in fact, nothing has been the same since the day you finally decided to give up. You know that it isn’t right, but nothing seems right anymore, so why try? Why worry about this vessel that will no longer serve me a purpose once it can’t work anymore? Believe me, I’ve been trying to figure out the same thing, the answers to these questions that I have about why we let ourselves go when we lose our

sense of stability. This elusive dream that keeps us restrained away from our true selves. And you have been skipping showers so often that your body odor is starting to become a new perfume that everyone around you can smell. The strong scent is so powerful that it contributes to your look. But you refuse to feel bad for yourself; you just simply do not give a damn. Even if you did, it still would not change the fact that anything you try to do will not help you out of this sabotaging mess. You are indeed a walking mess, but you feel as though there is no point in cleaning yourself up. Maybe the truth is that you are just too lazy to even attempt the process of starting over. It feels like all you have ever done is start over, and this has happened over and over again. There have been so many nights where you’ve found yourself stuck in this oblivion afterthought of what you should do next. Should you take a shower and wash the negativity of the day away? Find your bag filled with all your oralhygiene care products and give your smile a full pamper? Or simply just lay in bed, still in your work clothes, staring at the ceiling of your room blankly? Nothing in particular on your mind, just the fact that your overall health is starting to decline. Your body does not the feeling of freshness. The feeling of being fully clean, and you don’t the last time that you tried to actually clean yourself. We just go about our days, skipping showers and purposely forgetting to brush our teeth. We do this so often that we sometimes tell ourselves that because of this, “No one is never going to love me.” How can someone even stand the sight of us when we purposely forget to take care of our image? And deep down, it hurts us more than they will ever know, but we continue to act like we just don’t care that we have this foul lingering smell following us. Or our hidden smile that we barely show due to all the mornings and nights that we refused to get up and brush the grit and grime away. A human that showers causes bacteria to the minimal decimal point. They say it is because you are lazy and just simply don’t care, but you know that it goes deeper than what they think. There is something that you are not telling them, something that they are not noticing. It isn’t their fault that they did not recognize the symptoms sooner before you decided to skip showers and bathe in your own disgust. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to appease them but to absentmindedly please us.

Beneath These Curtains

I swear to you that they will never know. Nobody will ever find out about what lays hidden underneath these curtains that I show They will never think about it They will simply forget about my odd sense of style and go to sleep without it And I doubt that they would ever question me personally ’Cause let’s face it; If I push them far away enough, they won’t have to embrace it I’ll do it until I know that I can freely pursue this dangerous task even if it hurts me I make sure that these wounds go deep until I feel like I’m dehydrated and thirsty

Did I do my job right? Did I do my job right?

I deceitfully go about my business, pretending to be fine, but these beautiful cutout lines scar this canvas every time And I mean every time Just about every night or any time during the day, whenever I feel like the chemistry is feeling all right But this is something that will always stay hidden

Beneath these curtains and underneath my bed Behind my walls and on my canvas I keep my magical wand tucked away until I find it feeling lonely inside my head When it sees me crying this massive lake of tears, that is when I decide to cut back on the things that have been haunting me for years I’m not addicted. I am just simply consoling the countless decades of counseling I chose not to do

But me and this mystical euphoric joyride, yeah, we chop it up all the time And I mean all the time We’ve gotten so good at keeping secrets it feels like we go way back like Bonnie and Clyde Although I’d rather sip on some gasoline and get high off of some cyanide I want to laugh so hard that I feel my stomach aching from the inside out

Oh,

And these curtains do not slide open unless I decide to let myself breathe But you won’t catch me breathing around other people because this artwork underneath is my own type of privacy that no one else can evade I feign for someone to understand where I am truly coming from, but how can they? When the main thing I do to fight off this evaporated paint leaves me numb.

This towel has gotten so good at hiding things that I feel someday, it’ll end up hiding me My magical wand is a magician Our connection is so tight that it confides in me When trying to conjure up a new magic trick, I let it try on me first A hate-love thing, but it seems to always remind me that things could be a lot worse Reminding me to forget about the things that don’t matter, but then the mirror appears in front of my face, making me realize his mistake

I want to take the trash outside without feeling unprepared for all their questions I am afraid to quit these sensationless obsessions because what if I withdraw and end up back in its ? My canvas is speechless, and it knows how to make me feel in control when I can’t use my mouth These curtains will never expose what is hidden beneath on the outside of my canvas A beautiful piece of artwork that I will never show.

The Phone Call

Today is a particular day where I am going to decide to make that particular phone call. Yeah, I am going to do it or die trying not to do it. See, I need someone to talk to about some impersonal issues, and maybe you can make the pain go away.

Today is the day where your response to my drastic measures will spark a feather in what I shall do next. Yes, ma’am, I am going to put your debt and all your college degrees to the test. So I hope you are heavily aware and loaded with life advice, and if not, I swear to you I won’t think twice.

This walk defines all the walks that I have ever done, and you, whoever you may be, are the chosen one. The sun is hot, and my mind is cluttered. When I call you on this number, you will be the first person to ever know about my intentional plans. I will want nothing from you but some guidance and your thought process of why it’s not worth it. I want you to tell me that if I ever decide to leave, it will leave the ones I love hurting. Them useless words from before, I want to hear it all again now because I have tried ignoring these restless temptations, but that’s not working. Nothing is working. I just want someone to genially listen to my thought process and to be sympathetic. And that’s okay if you decide to silently listen as I expose my harsh reality of why I am calling you, sounding so pathetic.

So here goes nothing; this phone call is the last call that I am deciding to do. Telepathically, this present moment, and my future, is counting on you.

Phone dial 1-800-273-8255

Hello, this is me. I have called here before, but there is something about the last time that has me wondering about more. I’m just wondering if I can talk to you, or someone really quick, without feeling disrespectful and sounding so ignorant. See, I need to tell you about how and why I have decided to come to my final conclusion of this essay. I thought it was going to be something out of the ordinary or natural, but now I am thinking that it will all be disastrous and suspicious. I am telling you, lady, that I have skipped showers and stopped eating the foods that I once thought were delicious. You know? I’m saying…

“That’s understandable…Well, maybe if you try reaching out to a close friend…”

Yeah…see, I would if I could, but I don’t want to burden them, give them a piece of me that could potentially hurt them. They’re the best of friends that I have ever had, and I don’t want to see that end because I decided to tell them about all my problems and about why I am deciding to disappear and end up… “Right, but sometimes reaching out to a friend really does help. You know?” No, I don’t know. If anything, it seems to make everything worse. I am trying to tell you that I have these issues that are causing my spirit to hurt. I feel a piece of me chip off day by day. And each day seems to be getting harder than the one before.

“That’s understandable. Do you live in the area? You could come in and talk to someone face to face. We are open twenty-four hours.”

I…I would if I could, but my schedule does not work. I called this number for a purpose, for a specific reason. And now you want me to come in? Don’t you know that I am trying to catch the beast in its rawest form? Can you give me

some type of advice that will leave this conversation with my heart feeling warm? I am simply trying to tell you that I cannot take it anymore.

“I think it would be better if you came in instead. It would be much easier to talk to someone in person.”

About the Author

Mona Smith is a first-time publisher through New Springs Publishing, with her first publication being a poetry book called Creases of a Light Bulb. She hopes to inspire many people with her collection of poems. To learn more about the author, follow her on Instagram: @mona_larue2.